For a True Love
by JeffC FTW
Summary: The blood is life - the re-agent gives life. And true love never dies.
1. Prologue

**My latest Re-Animator story takes a different turn blending with Gothic horror and inspired by "There's a Head in the Box" by The Smiling Shadow, one of my favorite Re-Animator fics of all time found on this very website. :) The idea of headless Herbert was both delicious and heartwrenching at the same time, because after I first read the story to my boyfriend, he said "No one, not even our enemies, deserves a hell like that." It dawned on me to do a fic of my own of headless Herbert and Dan being alive for some years before love comes a long way, and Dan comes love again after losing Meg while Herbert's head is rescued by his own special woman - and surprisingly enough, he falls easily enough for her despite his loathing of physical and emotional relationships. I was also inspired by Twilight and Dracula, just a little bit, for the two new leading ladies in this story.**

 **The story goes AU after the crypt collapses at the end of Bride of Re-Animator, with a twist: Herbert is dying from his injuries and beheaded before being re-animated, and his head kept alive and intact. Dan manages to save Herbert's head and get away with both the head and himself, spending all the time searching for a new body before encountered by the beautiful vampires Mirela and Celeste - and things go beyond the scientific horrors the men have faced.**

 **Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me except my two main OC's.** **And the title of the story is named after an instrumental composed by BrunuhVille on YouTube. :)**

Prologue

 _Moldavia, Romania - 1848_

Her country was suffering in a civil war, and this was not how she wanted life to be. She wanted peace and beauty, always living without the fear of death, but life was never meant to be that way. Her life had been starvation, losing patients every day, religious fanatics persecuted and so forth. The simple people's lives did not matter as they should be. People die, and then they don't matter anymore, just like that.

 _Suffering should not be tolerable - only it is._

Houses were being burnt, women and children screaming as the country tore itself apart because the government let them down in all forms. The people rebelled as a result, divided brother against brother, best friend against best friend, father against son and so on.

And Mirela Vãduva was in the middle of it all on that fateful day.

The humble daughter of farmers, she was eighteen years old when she was arranged to marry the village physician who had been her mentor and a father to her when her own wasn't the most caring and understanding of fathers. No sons were born in the family, and young Mirela was ignored by her father most of her life unless she married a man of good status - a common trait in older times and various countries.

However, there was always something so mysterious about her mentor and husband, Cristian Alexandrescu. Despite his middle years, he was pale - unnaturally so - with hair black as the darkest night, eyes even the same, and very seductive that he sparked the young woman's heart in a manner that scared her. However, he never left his home or the medical cottage while the sun was out, which many found strange but never questioned - even Mirela herself. He was a man who stood out amongst the rest of the men in the village that he was both feared and respected, and many women flocked him long before he took his apprentice as his bride.

Mirela had never seen herself as a suitable candidate for a bride despite her daring will, ivory skin and wild raven hair. Dr. Alexandrescu, however, took her seriously and treated her like a human being despite her parents' willingness to marry her off because she was the only hope for their family's survival. The marriage was, blessedly enough, happy for her if lacking in the intimacy department. But as time went on, Mirela loved him with all the passion burning like the sun, and he loved her in return. She had wanted to give herself to him on their wedding night, but Cristian had mysteriously refused her advances. "Now is not the time, or for some time to come," he'd told her. "We do not wish to start a family, but one day when the time is right." He'd left it there, and that was four years ago.

Now things were worse than ever, now that their homeland was being burned by angry people who did not like how they were under the rule of the Ottoman Empire. Civil war, it seemed, was the only option. But in Mirela's heart, violence solved nothing.

It was in the winter of 1848 that the life as she knew it would come to an end, and winter would be eternal for her from then on.

" _Mama! Tata!_ " she screamed in her native language over the screams of horror at the village being destroyed. This had been her home from her birth until now. All her life was sacrifice and dedication to helping those in need, so what would happen now?

Her parents were never close to her, but their well-being was her priority. They resided outside town and on the hillside. Galloping on horse, Mirela rode the grassy plains, leaving behind amber flames on rooftops and howling cries of pain and death; blood was staining the earth by now.

Where had her husband been in all of this?

Her parents' cottage finally came into view. " _Mama! Tata!_ " she cried, not bothering to knock first and throwing the door open -

\- only to find the bodies of her parents sprawled on the floor, throats bitten into and the meat chewed ravenously. Blood pooled in a malevolent mixture of black and red. And towering over them was a beautiful but malicious figure in a regal blue velvet gown, long red hair flaming like the fires burning her village to the ground. Her skin was shiny and pearlescent like Cristian's was, and her eyes were the same color as his was, filled with demonic savagery, something that should not exist amongst the evils of the world - it belonged in another world which was feared in nightmares and folklore alike.

Blood dripped from the woman's mouth, bright red against stark white, and her teeth were bared in a feral grin when her hunter's eyes laid on Mirela in the doorway.

Mirela turned on her heels and began to run for her horse outside the house, but she never stood a chance and found herself grabbed and hauled back into the house - how did the woman manage with such impressive, inhuman speed? - and Mirela was pinned to the wall, looking deep into the woman's eyes. Now she had time to look deeper despite the frightening desire to eat, now that she knew _what_ this woman was, because the oldest legends told in this part of Romania were never to be forgotten or taken lightly.

Glistening white teeth were bared, letting loose a hiss of unquenched longing. And her blood was not the only thing.

Her hands were grabbed and held above her head with one hand and unbreakable strength. Mirela barely had time to process what was happening before the front of her corset was torn open so her right breast bounced out for the savage female's eyes. She wanted to piece together why she was doing this to her instead of going straight for her neck like in the stories - and then the slimy feel of a tongue snaked over her chest and the globe of her breast made her shiver violently and internally shriek at the mild violation...until an enormous pain shot through her breast as razor sharp teeth pierced the skin of her nipple and tore it all off with great speed. Mirela screamed in uncontrollable agony. Her chest was burning and throbbing so viciously she thought she was going to die right away, but the red-haired female had more in store for her...

"Ioana, let her go!"

Her mind was in a haze now, losing sight of reality as she tried to look over to see the tall figure in the doorway, a dark silhouette to prevent identification of the face, but oh she _knew_ that voice...

~o~

Her body was light and heavy at the same time when she finally came to. Darkness had spared her any more pain, but when she returned to consciousness, her vision was clear as a crystal, her senses higher than she expected, and she heard the voices just as sharply.

"Sire, she's awake."

"Of course she is, Grigore, my old friend. Mirela?"

She recognized her husband's voice, and he was leaning over her, handsome face full of concern. She looked into those eyes again, seeing the black eyes again...and remembered everything that happened to her. Everything from bursting into her parents' cottage to find their bodies mutilated, that fiery-haired creature who semi-violated her and bit her breast - she would have asked why do _that_ to her, but these creatures were devoid of absolute reason - and her husband's voice being the last thing she heard before darkness temporarily claimed her. "Cristian...how long was I...?" she asked softly, sitting up slowly and finding no need to pop her bones.

He gave her a soft smile. Looking down, she glimpsed clothing of much higher grandeur, of nobility instead of a common village physician. Frowning, Mirela found that they were both in a room washed with ivory and gold, finished with red wallpaper, and she was sitting up in a bed of red brocade and silk fit for royalty. "My dear, we are home, where we truly belong."

"H-home?" Mirela lowered her eyes again and saw that she was naked, her body wrapped in a clean white sheet; she boldly lifted the right side over for her own eyes to see the wound where her nipple had been chewed off had healed, now a soft purple-lavender concave never to be replaced.

"Castle Dracula, child."

That other, unrecognizeable voice made her glance up again. The man was dark-haired like Cristian, almost the same age as he was, and he, too, was dressed in rich garments of a nobleman. He was icy-skinned and black-eyed, as well. "Who are you?" Mirela asked, drawing back and a shrot distance from Cristian. The strange man laughed.

"No need to fear me, my dear. My name is Grigore Dragomir, and I am your husband's most trusted advisor."

So all of the stories were true. Vampires truly existed. She'd been attacked by the one which killed her family, but where was she now? And _Castle Dracula?_ That did not sound like any castle to reside in Moldavia, and she'd been born and grew up there. "Mirela, I am truly known as Vlad III, but to many, I am known as Dracula."

 _Dracula...the dragon...Vlad the Impaler..._

All of the stories from four hundred years ago regarding the fight to preserve Christianity in this country - the Order of the Dragon - came rushing back to her. The son of Vlad II - and the man with the notorious reputation - was alive and right beside her. Masquerading as a well-respected doctor and had taken her as his wife...and the very same man who saved her life from that demon.

And that meant Mirela, too, was now just like him.

"Give me a mirror," she said, looking up at Grigore Dragomir, who nodded and walked over to the opulent vanity and picked up a silver hand-held mirror. Mirela accepted it and gasped at her reflection which now possessed the qualities her husband did. She had expected her heart to start beating with overwhelming sensation at her face which was both old and new at the same time, but Cristian - _Vlad Dracul,_ or Dracula - leaned into her ear, pressing a kiss there and whispered.

"Your life is changed forever, my love. I saved your life, and we have a lot to talk about. But for now, I wish to welcome you into my world with no more secrets to hide." He looked up at his advisor, whom Mirela knew she liked in the first moment. Grigore bowed his head and turned to leave them. "I regret deceiving you all these years, my dear," her husband said softly, shifting back so she turned around to face him, "but surely you must understand why I could not."

"Yes." He would have been hunted down and burned, or worse. "Vlad...Cristian...what can I call you now?"

His chuckle reverberated through her system even though nothing inside her was alive any longer. "Alas, Vlad is who I always have been. It would be strange for you to call me by that name when you have always called me Cristian." He sighed. "And now I have condemned you when I should have protected you."

He was blaming himself for the she-beast that murdered her family. "V-Vlad..." To say his name was an incredible foreign taste on her tongue. Mirela smiled softly and reached out to cup his silken-smooth, marble-hard chin. "...you have done what you could. You saved my life, and for that, I am grateful." She looked around the grand room again; sadly, although she could smell eternal life together without separation, what would she be doing now if she could no longer be a doctor in the village and save innocent lives? Preserving life was her passion, and Vlad had dedicated service for years ever since she'd been a young girl and taught her everything she knew now. It now made sense that they were destined to be the moment they met. He protected her as a child and always intended to continue to do so; now she was what he was, and her path had taken another turn.

"Now, can we consummate our marriage after the long wait?" she asked, sure that because she was now an immortal, she would never bear a child. And Vlad was looking down at her, his smile becoming sly.

"Mirela, I abstained from making love to you because I would never take your life with the pain of bearing a half-vampire, half-human breed. But how can I hurt you now that the time has come?" His speech wasn't the best she ever heard from him, but it was enough for her to lie back against the bed, knowing Grigore wouldn't return anytime soon. She allowed her husband to draw the sheet apart to bare her to his eyes for the first time, and she reached up to open his doublet and undershirt, exposing a strong marble chest and abdomen. He leaned down and captured her lips with his, her body shivering with pleasure without the natural elements of a living woman's sexual stimulation - including the liquid heat which would pool below. There was no need to rush and no need to slow down either; Vlad made love to her for however long it would take throughout the night, leaving the worry about the details for the next day, and Mirela savored every bit of her first night as an immortal.

 **I'd done some reading on the history of Romania in the nineteenth century, just decades before Bram Stoker's epic novel "Dracula" came into existence. That story has always been a cherished, as well as various film adaptations, that I thought it a wonderful idea to blend vampires and zombies with a twist. Although realistically, a regular human being can have the traits of sensitivity to sunlight, naturally adaptable to nighttime and so on, which applies to Mirela, her husband and the other vampires who will appear later.**

 **In case anyone didn't understand, Vlad the Impaler (Vlad III) was the son of Vlad II, who founded the Order of the Dragon in Wallachia, Romania, when Christianity was in danger during the mid-fifteenth century. Vlad III was the inspiration for Count Dracula in Bram Stoker's tale, because of his apparent thirst for blood and the patronymic of his family name Dracul which means either "the dragon" or "the devil", the latter used today.**

 **In Romanian,** _ **Tata**_ **means "father", in case no one figured it out.**


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter One

 _Boston, Massachusetts - 1986_

He came home later that evening, night falling and leaving behind soft pink and lavender mingling with dark navy. He spent all day in the emergency room, losing two but saving six. Each time the EKG lines were flat, it mocked him and reminded him how weak he was now, compared to the past. And each body not even close to the one he was looking for, each body he brought home for a test, which took longer time than he wanted it to - mostly to the man himself currently in the basement.

Or rather, what was left of the man in the basement of his home.

Daniel Cain shrugged off his coat, smelling the remnants of blood on himself and longing for a shower. His stomach lurched; cleaning up came first before he could feed his growling stomach. He had nowhere special to be tonight, so his plan was to just spend tonight cleaning house and then going straight to bed.

Once everything was taken care of, he saved the latest room for last, although it had been swept up the night before after the latest subject. He did not come down here just for the sake of it, but because of what rested in this room. Rested both patiently and impatiently for a year since the collapse of the tomb adjacent to their last home residence abandoned after the incident. Constantly talking to itself - _himself_ \- day and night, but Dan was used to these things by now.

The room was dark when he descended the steps, his bare feet creaking the floorboards, and the floor was ice-cold by the time he reached the bottom and turned on the switch at the bottom of the stairs. The space was spotless, the shelves cleared of dust and the contents stored into their rightful places in cabinets and underneath the counters. The incinerator was turned off for the time being, and the refrigerator housed a terrifying secret that only Dan Cain knew.

However, all was motionless save for one peculiar thing on the rectangular table he used for the subjects he brought back from the hospital whenever he could spare without getting sick with fear of discovery.

" _Dan._ "

~o~

 _He pushed debris and earth out of the way, his body aching with putting up a fight with the things of the past come back for revenge. Dr. Hill's head had come back - how did that happen? The "how" didn't matter now; what mattered was that he'd come back for revenge for his beheading, and Meg taken away from him now that Dan thought of it._

 _Meg..._

 _He now accepted the fact that he would never reunite with her; she was gone forever. Her heart might have beaten again in a new body, but it wasn't the Meg he loved before she was taken from him. Her spirit was God's will to give and take, not man. On second thought, maybe no spirit existed, but either way, it was not man's place to make a new human being and give life back. But he was a doctor; all he wanted to do was to save people's lives, not make these monsters around them, but Herbert's morbid curiosity got the best of him, and look where it got them._

 _"Dan?" He looked behind him to see his last hope for his future, the woman who had been his chance at a normal life only to be ruined by Herbert. He could have put her out of here first, but he had to dig a way out first and then see that it was safe to drag her after him. Francesca clung to him and let loose a series of moans of relief._

 _"I'm sorry," he whispered. For her almost being killed by the woman who had the parts of all the women he failed to save - especially Meg - for what happened to her dog, and now almost getting killed by more of Herbert's creations. Just everything. He wanted nothing more than to make up for it. But he never got the chance to tell her this._

 _"DAN!"_

 _"Herbert." He broke away from her and looked down into the pit of fallen stone and so on. His partner and friend was down there, and he'd seen him get crushed underneath the earth. He was probably hurt, injured in some way. Dan thought about just leaving him there so he could move on from this madness, but at the same time, he wasn't an uncaring monster. And West showed little to no compassion for the people they tried to save, even when it came to his meddling with body parts._

 _He pulled away from Francesca and headed back through the hole in the ground. "I have to go to him."_

 _She tried to stop him, grabbing his arm. "Dan, he's a monster. Just leave him there for everything, so he doesn't hurt anyone else!"_

 _"He's my friend, and he's still a human being! I'm a doctor, not a murderer!" He yelled wordlessly when he fell down, and his body flared with pain as he hit a rough spot, but with that pain came a determination and savagery of an animal ready to hunt. He threw aside rock slabs after the other, cleared dirt and soot...and finally there was a hand as well as a familiar face. The glasses were covered with dirt, the left side broken completely, and Herbert West was whimpering and crying in pain._

 _"Dan...! Dan, please!"_

 _He hauled him out of the mess and carried him over to a smoother fallen slab, laying Herbert down on it like one of the patients. As far as he could tell, broken ribs and a hip, maybe one leg or so, but there was no telling. And guaranteed, Herbert did not have much longer to live. "Herbert, please, hold on," Daniel begged as he left him there and moved for the direction of the hole in the wall which led to the lab. He looked behind him to see Francesca coming back down. "Francesca, come and help me!" he shouted._

 _"I'll help you this one time, but the police will know about this," she threatened as she helped him haul the last of the rocks aside so the entrance was revealed. "You'll have no choice but to -"_

 _She broke off when she screamed as a long, sharp length of silver pierced through her heart from behind. Dan barely heard himself in his own howls of anguish._

 _"NOOOOOOO!"_

 _She choked and clutched at her chest as burgundy spurted, collapsing to her knees and revealing who had done the deed. The old hag - Chapham's wife - cackled as she brandished the machete after Dan, but he dodged her, and she ended up falling forward and losing her grip on the sword. Dan dove for it and briefly looked down at Francesca's body before turning his attention back to the witch who was just picking herself up, but vengeance boiled through him to the exploding point that he brought the blade down and severed her head with a clean stroke. Blood poured out in a thick, gory amount and splattered darkly on concrete. The corpse collapsed in a jerky flip-flop like sea bass._

 _Great, now he had two "souls" to get out of here. He easily carried Francesca, lifeless and limp in his arms, shoving off all of the scattered remains of the woman called "Meg" onto the floor, laying her down and shoving her hair out of her face. This was his fault; he had gotten her into this, and he'd lost another tonight. But he swore to fix this. He had to work fast to bring her back, not caring what the consequences were at this time. She didn't deserve to stay dead._

 _The black bag was on the floor just in front of the hole in the masonry, and it was natural that the re-agent was inside. Herbert was still alive, but it would be a matter of time before he would succumb to death. And he was screaming again for Dan._

 _"Don't you...let me die!" he choked out. "Don't choose her over me!"_

 _Herbert West feared death; that was why he wanted to exterminate it once and for all, nevermind if the person didn't want to return in greater pain than before. He might have done so many wrong things, but he was just like Dan in wanting to save the patient at all costs. "Dan, I can't breathe...my body is...broken...can't feel..." He was trying to tell him that his body was too broken to be fixed, but his HEAD was intact._

 _Dan was appalled at the hint behind the meaning. Herbert wanted him to take his head off as soon as he was dead and then find him a new one once they got away from this place. Oh, God, did he seriously...?!_

 _He shook his head clear of the thought, looking back to see Francesca's corpse on the table, very much the same way Meg had been on the hospital bed. He quickly sucked out the re-agent and brought the needle over to her, lifting her head up and sticking the needle into the spinal cord because her heart was too broken._

 _Moments later, a voice broke the still air._

 _"Dan?"_

 _"Francesca," he breathed as he looked into her soft brown eyes, once closed behind soft eyelids in peaceful eternal sleep. "You're alive. How do you feel?" He brought his hand up to cup her cheek, but the sooner his palm made contact with her skin, her hand shot up and clutched his hand, fingernails curling in enough to pierce skin, making Dan draw back and cry out, clutching his bleeding hand._

 _"WHAT DID YOU DO TO ME?!" she howled, surging off the bloodied table, hair wild like a lion mane as her whole face was. "YOU SHOULD HAVE LEFT ME DEAD! NOW LOOK AT ME!"_

 _She lunged for him, but Dan dove out of her way, and she landed on the ledge of the entrance to the tomb - and Herbert on the slab was at risk of her savage revenge. "This is what you get now, Maker!" re-animated Francesca shrieked, scrambling up and diving for him, fingers latching around his neck. Herbert's screams were like the damned he revived, and pretty soon, blood stained the surroundings once more. More than enough blood had been spilled in one night, never ending in Dan's life._

 _"Francesca, NO!" he shouted, climbing up and trying to pull her off Herbert, but when he finally did, it was too late. Herbert's disarticulated head was now in the clutches of his undead flame; she threw it down in a frenzy, the glasses sliding off to the side. "Francesca, stop!" Dan was thrown onto the table, stunned and about to be killed in her fury._

Don't you let me die...choose her over me...

 _Herbert's words came back with a vengeance. Thankfully, Dan's hand found another rock to hold in hand; he brought it up and smashed it into Francesca's face. He should have listened to his instincts and left her dead, so she wouldn't have had to suffer anymore. It was clear that no more women were allowed as long as he was shackled to Herbert, who had become his responsibility since the night he walked into Dan's life. He had an oath to honor now._

 _After finishing off with bashing the rock into her face so she was dead once again, Dan threw it aside and looked back at Herbert West's severed head, now lying less than a few feet away from him, the glasses broken for sure; he would have to get him another pair, but getting away with both their skins intact came first. Picking up his friend's head by the hair and leaving Francesca's corpse with the other monsters hidden underneath the collapse, Dan went back into the lab and repeated the process._

 _This time, he got a much calmer response than anticipated, but the fury was there in those eyes._

"Look at what you let her do to me," _Herbert raged, blinking uncontrollably._ "And where are my glasses? I can't see a damn thing!"

 _He almost laughed, but now wasn't the time. "We're getting the hell out of dodge first, before the police come here. I'm going to do what you asked in the event of time, as your friend."_

"If you're my friend, then get me a body soon!"

~o~

 _"Did you have a good day?"_

Dan still stood at the bottom of the stairs as he looked at the back of the dark head facing him, his legs frozen until he finally willed himself forward and circled around the table. The head of Herbert West rested in a silver square dish, filled with blood and human plasma to keep it sustained, and more from the blood bag and IV for the sake of it. It was held straight up with a spike through what was left of the spine in the neck. The eyes behind the glasses were closed, lips parted slightly to let in raspy breaths even though it had no lungs for support. As soon as Dan stood before it, the eyes opened and blinked, the mouth closing and pursing into a thin line, waiting for his answer.

"Was that meant to be sarcastic?" Dan asked with a slight smile, leaning forward to look deeper into crystal green eyes.

West glared up at him in return. This was pretty much the only facial reaction he ever got from his friend in a year since that night. _"You tell me,"_ he returned, making Dan draw his head back.

"Only two lost, but you know how I am," he answered sadly, remembering the college frat boy who died of an overdose during a party - something he brought on himself, someone among the team had whispered - and the older woman who had a stroke, which was natural. She reminded Dan of his grandmother who died when he had just started going through puberty.

 _"You could have brought them by for the re-agent,"_ Herbert scolded.

"On my own with two of them, risking the police finding out? Like they almost did back in Arkham?" he countered. "And neither of them would have met your standards, anyways. An old woman, as well as a burly guy whose body structure isn't even close to your old one."

Herbert considered this and sighed, closing his eyes. It had been a year since he had been able to help Dan with these things - minus with the mixing of the serum, batch after batch - move and touch things, but now his days and nights were in that dish filled with life's blood. His own as well as another's which matched his blood type. Dan would unwillingly steal blood bags from the hospital upon shortage and fill his friend's dish to keep him from drying out, and it was a miracle he hadn't even rotted over the last year. But despite being alive all this time, having no body was taking a toll on what was left of his sanity.

 _"All of these delays despite the subjects successful and retaining rational thought - WHY NO BODY FOR ME?!"_ he exploded, eyes wild and blazing like fire. _"You promised me that you would find me one, and it's been a year!"_

Dan sighed and sat down in the chair pulled up. "And I will find you one, but it hasn't been easy. Not when you got _me_ doing all the work. I wish I could find someone else to help, but it's too risky. As much as I want you back on your feet, this is going to be much longer than we thought before, Herbert. You're going to have to be patient just a while longer."

 _"I'VE BEEN PATIENT!"_ Herbert roared, his glasses sliding down his nose. Dan reached over and pushed them back into place. _"I HAVE NOT TOUCHED ANYTHING WITH MY OWN HANDS IN A YEAR, WALKED PLACE TO PLACE OF MY OWN FREE WILL, AND HAVE NOT WORKED ON MY OWN SUBJECTS BECAUSE IT IS MY LIFE TAKEN FROM ME!"_

He wanted to shout back, but it was useless. Herbert was suffering a hell no one - not even enemies - deserved, and once in awhile, Dan was hoping it would make him see that re-animation of the dead wasn't as blissful as he thought it was, but nothing ever changed Herbert's mind. "Your life will come back to you," he promised, "but don't be thinking I'm abandoning you just because this is taking forever. We'll take however long it will until I get you a body." He paused there, thinking of the person he had been working alongside the past four months. She was a new face in Boston, her and her personal secretary, and she was an intriguing, brilliant woman who excelled in the field.

"There's one person I know who might help, but I am still not sure if we can trust her," he said finally.

Herbert scoffed. _"Her? You're honestly thinking of a woman on our team to give me a new body? You're that much of a weak link than I thought before."_

"Maybe I am, but she's a possibility. She is much better at saving lives than I am, so that's why I'm thinking of her."

 _"Her name?"_

"Dr. Mirela Vale."

 **Besides "There's a Head in the Box", there's this incredible fic called "Re-AnimATE" on Tumblr, and it's crossed with "Silence of the Lambs". Very gruesome, but fun to read. :D**


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

In the present day Boston, Massachusetts, in the halls of the general hospital, all eyes looked up from their activities to see the stand-out walking between them, graceful, deliberate and without a pause, slender black leather handbag slung over one shoulder. This was a haunting figure that warmed and chilled them all with her presence at the same time. The very smell of her was the first to drift from her skin and wisp through the air - a blend of Asian fruits and florals, mingled with exotic woods - and trace it back to this "person".

The face was pure beauty, perhaps in the image of Snow White, for it bore two perfectly defined, penciled black eyebrows over a pair of dark eyes - if anyone walked up closer, they would see the dainty red flecks in the irises - two glittering gems above a sharply defined nose above a pair of plump lips painted a red too passionate and risqué for her icy features, glossed to a shine. The chin was dainty and forming a defined end for the heart-shaped face. Glossy ebony hair was lovingly pulled up and piled atop the head in a beautiful, braided bun.

The woman's clothing was sharp and sophisticated, complimenting her structure very well: her body was slim but bearing voluptuous curves and a pair of round, pert breasts of average size peeking out at the neck of her black tank underneath her trimmed white dress suit. Completing the appeal of her profession and her gender were a pair of sleek, two-inch black patent heels each with three little bows blinged out with sparkling rhinestones. Any ignorant or rude person who took note of the sparkles would remind her that she was a professional, not an event planner, yet she wholeheartedly ignored or spat at them to mind their own business.

Her jewelry, last but not least, was kept to a minimum yet also made her stand out. Wrapped around her throat was a black lace ribbon with an impressive black onyx in the middle. The hand that held onto the strap of the purse over her right shoulder flashed the ring on the middle finger - classified as Gothic, for the thorns of "torture" and "self-sacrifice" bled with tears of red and white crystals. Her other hand - her free hand resting to her side - bore a unique wedding ring with a magical fire opal surrounded by pearls in a floral setting. A ring given to her by someone she loved so long ago before he was cruelly taken away from her.

Mirela Vãduva survived a hundred and sixty years of eternal life. Born in summer, died in winter and reborn by the coming spring, she lived on as one of the creatures of the night shunned by God and humanity - but she did not live the life that humanity degraded her kind to be. She contributed to the world by swearing to conquer death once and for all without resorting to outright vampirism. Today and since the early twentieth century, she was known as Mirela _Vale_.

She'd read from Sri Chinmoy, the Indian spiritual himself, had his words of conquering death as if it were a disease to human life:

 _"Medical science is trying to conquer death, but actual physical immortality will come into existence only through aspiration and God's conscious will. If you feel that medical science will eventually conquer death, then I must say that you are mistaken. Death will be conquered when each individual someday possesses a different consciousness, and that consciousness will come only after liberation and self-realization. We will have at that time a different body...a divinized body...a transformed body."_

Oh, he had no idea how much of a fool he was, Mirela thought with a sneer. Medical and scientific breakthrough occurred _all_ the time in this ever-changing world, so why should this be any different? There had been only a few men in the world who ever attempted and failed, resulting in disastrous consequences, however there was only one man whom she ever truly followed. And he had disappeared almost two years ago, and she'd since lost track of him.

Herbert West, who had been her good friend and onetime lover in college at Zurich, under the infamous Dr. Hans Gruber, before her time came to depart after his death. Her beliefs in God had long ago vanished once she'd come under the tutelage, after the death of her beloved husband, Vlad, at the hands of a hunter and the woman Ioana before Mirela got away unscathed, of German biologist and professor Ernst Haeckel and accepted his theories that all life was natural and without God's help. She'd worked with him for some years until his death in 1919. Hans Gruber came next, but that wasn't for another six decades, and it was that first meeting that changed her life yet again.

The day she met Herbert West. Before he disappeared from her radar.

~o~

 _Unlike the stories and fables, she could come out in daylight, but she had to be careful with sunny days, as once she was out in sunlight, people would know she was different from them. Dark hair tied into a simple ponytail, wearing a graceful dress with a black velvet bodice and elbow sleeves complete with an elegant gray chiffon skirt, finished with black flats, she walked down the corridor until she found the door she was looking for, hearing the voices behind it and smiling. Her three knocks caused them to stop; her sensitive ears picked up footsteps approaching, and she stepped back when the door opened to show the man she was looking for. "Hello, Dr. Gruber," she said with a little smile, showing pearly white teeth._

 _"Ah, Miss Vale. You're here earlier than I expected, but that's alright. Do come in." He stepped aside for her to come in. She wasn't disappointed with the sight of the classroom in order - but then the other person beside the lab table caught her attention. "Herbert, my boy, this is Mirela Vale, our new addition to the team and our classroom."_

 _The inexplicably handsome face was nothing she expected to see, and the reaction in her body was something she had never felt since the first time she met Vlad while he lived as Cristian Alexandrescu. Even if her heart no longer pumped blood, it did not mean she could not exhibit the thrills in her veins._

 _His smile appeared forced, and she read his green eyes as well as his entire posture that he wasn't thoroughly pleased she'd come to join them. He was dressed entirely in black from his suit and tie, but his shirt was bright white. And his glasses seemed almost too large for his narrow face. If she was standing close enough to him - and with her long-range eye measurement - she could tell he stood almost as tall as she was, which marked him shorter than any man she'd known in her lifetime._

 _"Herbert," she said, cooling as soon as she stretched further in sensing he despised women. "Is that it, or do you have a last name?"_

 _"West," he replied, equally cool. "Herbert West. From Arkham, Massachusetts, if you are wondering. Am I correct in guessing you are...Romanian? Exotic and unusual in every step of the way."_

 _"Indeed. Would_ I _be wrong in assuming you are not pleased I will be becoming Dr. Gruber's newest and second apprentice?" Mirela seethed at her heritage being insulted by his rude, matter-of-fact mannerisms, but she would not keep her foot off of his and show she wasn't some weak, insipid female he thought she was._

 _West glared at her, leaving his place and crossing over to her, eyes narrowing. "I do not appreciate anyone reading me like an open book, Miss Vale." He then looked up at his professor with disdain. "Doctor, I do not understand why you insisted on letting her come here of all places, as well as the fact you couldn't make do with only one pupil. You shouldn't burden yourself with more than one animal in the house." It wasn't meant to be a joke - nothing was truly funny anymore unless she saw that it was - but this haughty young man was making a fool of himself in front of her and his teacher, who sighed and stepped in between them._

 _"Aw, come now, don't fight on the first day. Miss Vale will be moving in with us for the duration of her studies along with yours, Herbert. She has studied over the last year in Austria and will finish here in Zurich. I believe you'll be happy to know she follows Haeckel's theories as we do." Gruber laughed and patted his young apprentice on the shoulder, but his scowl never changed, locking with Mirela's. The longer he glowered into her much darker eyes - abnormally dark, as she read from his mind - he seemed to go weak at the possible intimidation he was feeling. She almost laughed; he was intimidated by a woman when he prided himself on doing so to another individual._

 _What shocked her most of all, despite his clear dislike of her, he thought her strangely enticing._

 _She really had no idea how to take this in. Of all the things she expected him to think about her, she had not expected this. Schooling in Europe over the past eight decades while moving once every ten years from town to town had prevented her from being with another man after losing her husband; her wedding ring was still around her finger, and she never bothered taking it off. Even if she noticed how men flocked her, she read their true emotions that weren't positive. These men were beasts._

 _But not this one._

 _This one might disagree with her right now, but suddenly she could sense an improvement in the future...or so she hoped. Herbert West was resistant to feminine charms, although with Mirela Vale, he was beginning to weaken at the knees as Vlad had first done to her._

~o~

Four months ago, she arrived in Boston from New Orleans, never once returning to Romania ever since her husband was murdered, but that did not mean she didn't keep in touch with what was going on in her home country since departure. New Orleans was where she met her secretary years ago, whom she took under her wing two years ago and remained ever as close as sisters would be.

She was a fully licensed doctor now, having gone to school in New Orleans and acquired her medical license, giving up her student shell completely and being one of the youngest physicians in existence. Such things were rare, but no one bothered pestering her about it, and Mirela was grateful. She had come here with the purpose of bringing a new form of medicine from Europe to America, but she doubted the world would be ready to accept, especially with what she'd picked up about Arkham, the town north of Boston.

It was here in Boston that she'd met Daniel Cain, her colleague she knew had his mind on her, but not in the inappropriate sense. He was fascinated by her, but other than that, she couldn't read him very well. Not all men were easy to read. From the moment they met, and Celeste laid her eyes on him on her very first day, there was something about Dr. Cain which made him so...for her perfect vocabulary, she couldn't find the right word for Cain other than "mysterious". He was respected, handsome, always smiling and kind, but the river ran deeper than she sensed.

He was hiding something from the rest of the world, and she decided to ask Celeste one day, a week after they arrived in Boston, to look up Dr. Daniel Cain.

"I found him!" she'd announced that night in her bedroom of their shared apartment - white like the rest of their house, as was her own next door, their shared bathroom in between - the furniture pieces all being oak; the two bedside tables and the wardrobe set below the window, as well as the computer desk she'd sat at. The only plant life in the room were the tropical green plant in the corner beside the window and the rich purple orchids at the window. A modern canvas depicting cherry blossoms in a neutral palette hung above the bed, which was sprawled with colors of fresh spring in sage and white, parted in half with a tree as the focal point.

Mirela had found herself staring at the old headline news article titled "Miskatonic Massacre", dated 1984.

"Yes, only two survivors of October eleventh that night," Celeste had reported, eyes glued to the screen, mouse scrolling down to show more. "Dan Cain and Herbert West."

She'd seen the face of the man with whom she was taught by Dr. Gruber. His face was one she remembered and held in her heart and long memory, and it pained her a little. The last time she saw him was when he was taken off to the asylum in Zurich, and her time had come to leave and return to New Orleans to rebuild her friendship with Celeste. Then there was a picture of Daniel Cain as he was now. "The walls were painted with blood, body parts ritualistically mutilated and scattered, crazies on the loose..." She'd went on with the known perished amongst the unknown: Alan Halsey, the dean of the medical school; his body had been torn to pieces, as it described. Also among the dead was Dr. Carl Hill, his head being found only and the rest of his body unrecovered. And finally - "Megan Halsey, the dean's daughter, and she was his girlfriend."

"She was killed," Mirela stated, all the missing pieces and the clues coming together.

" _Oui_. And Daniel had been found with her dead body in his arms."

Knowing her best friend, Celeste was feeling more than sympathy for Dr. Cain. She had not been with a man since she'd been taken from her fiancée less than two decades ago, but a human man wasn't on the radar. If he ever found out what she really was, he'd either leave or try to kill her. But if he chose to stay and accept her for who she was, he'd die of old age while she'd live forever - or he would be taken from her by force.

She never once brought up the massacre to Cain, nor did she ever mention the name of Herbert West. According to the papers, Dr. West disappeared a year ago without a trace, and Dan Cain had taken off without a trace himself. It made her wonder how he settled in Boston of all places, not that far from the little town of horrors. And where had _Herbert_ been all this time?

She met with Dan later that afternoon on lunch break - she didn't eat anything at all, but that never stopped her from joining Dan and Celeste - when she found him speaking to Celeste at her desk. In her original life, she had been a girl who had no idea what to do with her life, living on wild parties and finding the man of her dreams in that manner. Unlike the more sophisticated Mirela, she wore her long blonde locks straight and free over her shoulders, and her leopard-trimmed white suit dress hinted wild allure to match her personality, her heels also animal printed with gold trim. Her choices of jewels was also kept to a minimum; satin shimmer-finished earrings in tear shapes suspended from her ears, and a lovely oval-shaped ring with a carved crystal face set with a diamond rested on the third finger of her right hand; the nails were French-tipped and mystical shade of gold. Her make-up consisted of a natural glow around her eyes to make the bronze orbs pop out, and her lips a frosty, shimmering shade of rose. If anyone were to step up to her desk to ask for Dr. Mirela Vale, they would not only be in awe of the sexy young physician herself, but also enchanted by her equally lovely secretary; her distant but exquisite aroma would cleanse the senses and leave a fruity, floral hint with sensual base notes.

Dan looked up and saw her approach when Celeste's attention shifted past him. "Oh, hey, Mirela. I was wondering if I could ask you a favor during lunch? About some...personal business outside work that I'm working on."

She would have found the request odd if she were another human being he'd ask. "Of course. But surely you could have asked someone else. We've become good friends and colleagues in a short period of time, but why me?" she asked.

"Because it's very..." He paused, and she studied his bodily behavior carefully. "...complicated. I would rather talk about it over lunch."

 **I had it in me to quote the teachings of the Indian master himself, if anyone wants to explore his "words of wisdom". He did indeed say more beyond than what is read in here, but that expansion is no different than quoted now. :)**


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

The moment Dan mentioned Mirela Vale's name to Herbert, the reaction from his friend's head was priceless, but also stunning him to his core. He had always taken Herbert West as a man who wasn't capable of feeling any form of emotion, given the well-being of those around him were an afterthought for him, only concerned all in the name of science. However, the mention of Mirela...it sounded like she had been someone he truly, genuinely cared about. As much as two women Dan had cared about before they had been taken away from him. One whose picture rested on his bedroom nightstand after all this time, whose death had set in but the pain stopped, the good memories setting in.

But now there was another woman who caught his attention, but it wasn't Mirela Vale. Her secretary, Celeste Roberts, reminded him of Meg, although she didn't pry or engage him in conversation for the sake of it. She was beautiful, too, long blonde hair spiraling. It had been a long time since he had the time to notice a woman, just putting his head down and working, focusing on Herbert and his own life...until Dr. Vale and Miss Roberts came along.

They reminded him of Snow White and Rose Red, two sides of the same coin. Like him and Herbert, though female versions. Mirela and Celeste were roommates, having been best friends for some years now. They never spoke of their lives outside the workplace, but one odd factor was that they never seemed to eat or drink anything, much less go out in the sunlight. Dan wasn't sure why both women intrigued him so much, but one thing for sure: Mirela didn't seem interested in him beyond friendship, but Celeste...

He just couldn't stop thinking about her every day, and every night. His main fear was losing her the way he lost Meg and Francesca.

Mirela seemed suspicious about his request about aid in a "private operation" at his house, but what could he say? For all he knew, she wouldn't have believed him or perhaps called the police, but she would find out eventually. Guaranteed, her reaction wouldn't be positive, but there might be no way she'd say no. How could she, when she and Herbert knew each other back in Switzerland? Herbert had stubbornly ended his story when Dan tried to pry, but he and Mirela were _more_ than just friends.

Weren't they?

~o~

 _Mirela Vale had come to Zurich while Herbert West was still in his third year; now a period of four months had passed. He had to admit how wrong he was when he assumed she wouldn't be any different than any other woman he'd met in his life. She was gifted and provided with her own theories about improving the re-agent; the process was very delicate and could not be taken into account so lightly. Ever since she moved in with him and Dr. Gruber, physical mixing of the solution began right away._

 _She was just like Herbert in so many ways: she never left the lab, never seemed to eat much - or not at all, yet she still managed to keep herself so perfect. She dedicated herself to the work and nothing else, but unlike Herbert, she actually looked to other people and returned the kindness when they deserved it, even spat back when disrespected. She was a fiery female, not taking resistence from anyone._

 _Their working relationship had improved in the last four months, always studying together, always communicating about the work and school altogether, but there was one factor missing from each of them: their personal lives. Which Herbert wasn't willing to share, but Mirela had revealed some details once before, last month._

 _"I was married, before I came here." She'd flashed him the ring then, her eyes glazing but not spilling tears. "He was a wonderful man, taught me everything I need to know about being a doctor. Back home in Romania, he was a doctor himself, and I was his apprentice as you are Dr. Gruber's now. We got married before I got into medical school, but sadly it was cut short. He was murdered, and I would rather not discuss it." Her eyes had hardened then. "I loved him passionately, but no man can match up to the one he was."_

 _Love, marriage, and every relationship form were never up Herbert's alley because when he was younger, in high school, he had one who tried to tear him away from the important matter which was working hard for the desired goal, and when she got tired of it all, she let him go. Herbert had never once been with a woman ever since then, and now Mirela..._

 _"You should ask her out on more than just a mere study date, my boy."_

 _"Why, Doctor?" he'd asked haughtily as he fixed his tie that morning before school. Mirela was busy in her own room, probably readying herself up, too. Women took longer than men ever did._

 _Hans laughed heartily and shook his head. "Because I know you like her, and she likes you, too. The both of you really have gotten closer; you fight less and less now. It's obvious she's not like the first one and your mother, for that matter. You do know what I mean, don't you?"_

 _Herbert snorted. "I don't do flowers, movies, dinner and -"_

 _"Gentlemen?"_

 _Both men looked up and saw Mirela in the doorway, one hand on her hip and the other above her head as she leaned to the side. Her blouse was black satin, her skirt white and stopping above her knees, blending with her icy skin. She was paler than Herbert was. "Talking about more than study dates, are we?" she asked slyly, and while Herbert would not let her see, he was blushing, but damn Gruber for humiliating him._

 _"Herbert is too shy to ask you himself, Mirela dear, but would you do the honors of going out of the house tonight?" he asked with a laugh. Herbert glared at him with a look he knew said "Why would you betray me?!"_

 _Mirela's response was what he dreaded the most. "I haven't...been out with a man since I lost my husband, but I suppose I could use a night out that doesn't involve work."_

 _However, it went smoother than he thought it would. She knocked him off his feet in a ruched purple velvet dress which bared her arms and legs, barely showing her chest curves, and her raven hair was cascading down her back. Their topics didn't involve work, just enjoying a sumptuous dinner Herbert did not remember having in his life, and he could not ever remember the last time he had a normal conversation with anyone._

 _However, Mirela did not even eat dinner, which he found strange as much as he tried to persuade her to, but she refused. He wondered if she was on a...special diet, but didn't ask. "You really have to tell me eventually," he told her as soon as they returned home, and by then, Dr. Gruber must have been passed out in bed upstairs._

 _"I know I have to, but if I did, you'd shun me and be afraid to come near me."_

 _He frowned; she was implying she was far from human, and he could tell she was. She was so pale and cold as ice, her eyes abnormally dark, her mannerisms far too proper than his own, her refusing to eat and drink, much less go out when the sun shines..._

 _He didn't always read scientific reason in textbooks and his own, but one subject in mythology fascinated him on the line of immortality but not exactly the one he was aiming for:_

Vampire.

 _Herbert laughed. "Need you ask? If you were going to, you would have a long time ago. But I seriously doubt you would feast on the blood of any human being around us. But what keeps you alive -?"_

 _She silenced him by placing a single finger on his lips. "Sshh. Save the questions for tomorrow. Tonight was the first night either of us have taken things beyond just science partners and housemates." Her dark eyes were windows to oblivion, reading no emotion, but Herbert could almost see himself in the irises. They drowned him in darkness, knowledge...and seduction. She thrilled him without much physical contact, but her finger on his lip sent chills through his body that he wanted more...and it brought forth the chills of fright, coupled with the growing heat in his pants._

 _Mirela noticed this and smirked. "This tells me everything. And don't deny it; I can read everything about you. You're afraid, but you want it. You're afraid going too far will result in the fear of loss." He stiffened; he had made it clear he hated it when people read him too well, but she understood him without abusing it. He nodded, pursing his lips in a thin line. "Herbert, don't be afraid. As my husband taught me a long time ago, go for it when you know the time is right."_

 _Herbert was stunned at the bold statement, and then her hands were now roaming over his chest, her fingers massaging him and delivering the chills which aroused him to the point where he couldn't wait any longer. He was still a virgin, but he wasn't afraid of any pain. "Mirela..." His voice failed him, and then her lips met his, carefully bringing his head down to meet with hers. How long had he wanted this? He had cut off all emotional and physical ties long ago, afraid for known and unknown reasons alike, but this incredible immortal being he felt an immensely strong bond with had awakened the senses he never knew existed._

 _"Come...let's go to bed."_

 _He let her do everything from beginning to end. It occurred in her bedroom, when the window curtains were drawn, her bed was a canopy and hung with sheer gossamer curtains, and Dr. Gruber's room was far down the hall from them. Herbert's heart thumped faster than it had ever done so in his life, Mirela's delicate, black-tipped hands removing his tie and then his shirt, baring his skin to her eyes. He had long ago removed his shoes at the door, but she wanted his socks to be saved last for her own reasons. Herbert admitted he loved how she was treating him with such care when he was long ago informed the man was supposed to be in charge._

 _On the contrary, given their actual age differences - she was a hundred and fifty-eight years and he was barely twenty-five - he was a young one compared to her. He gasped softly when his nakedness was exposed for her eyes and hands, now roaming over his body gently, chilling him and firing him up at the same time. "Oh, Mirela..." Never in his life had he ever been touched like this, and he wanted to get into bed with her now. "Please?"_

 _"Lay down," she whispered, her voice still soft but now deeper and richer. He obeyed and laid back against the dark-colored, rich textures, gasping and arching up when she softly nibbled on his neck, taking his jugular vein between her teeth - he almost panicked when he thought she would bite him - but then she moved to his shoulder and repeated the same gesture, then moved down his body and kissed his skin, and once she was finished with her hands and mouth, her body joined with his for the first time._

~o~

"Dr. Cain, watch out!"

At this time of year in January, there was still ice on the ground, even when it rained after snow, so Dan was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn't see the speeding car coming his way until too late. He was just getting into his Hyundai when the other car turned on its side, ready to flatten against the side of his vehicle and smash him into a pancake. He slid down on the cold, wet ground while still against the driver door, ready to get squished like roadkill -

\- but nothing happened.

"Are you all right?"

He frowned and raised his head, looking up to see who had rescued him and _stopped the other car._ The back corner of the rear had collided with the right front headlight of his, but the side of the black Chevy had been pushed away with a bare hand, saving his life altogether. He found himself staring into a pair of bronze-colored eyes and plump pink lips parted slightly. "Dan?" Celeste asked when he couldn't speak, her eyes narrowing then. "I'll take that as a yes."

People were beginning to crowd around, helping him up and asking him a buzz of questions; he barely acknowledged being taken back inside to be examined. He wanted to say he was a doctor and could handle himself, but his protests were drowned out, and his head was spinning with one question:

 _How did Celeste stop that car?_

 **Celeste saving Dan was inspired by Edward saving Bella in "Twilight". :) That's also the moment where she now knows he's not as human as he appears. And now Daniel thinks that of Celeste - and Mirela, too.**


	5. Chapter 4

**My research on vampires will be explored in here with our girls. :D**

Chapter Four

Mirela was beyond furious; what the hell was Celeste thinking, jumping in the way of that car?! She'd saved Dan's life, but twelve people saw what had happened, and they might bombard her and Celeste for sure - or maybe her friend without turning to the doctor herself.

Either way, she and Celeste were marked for questioning by Daniel.

Right now, Dan was in the main emergency room, checked over by the nurse behind a curtain. She scoffed and shook her head, stepping in and taking the clipboard from Nurse Jacqueline, frowning at the idea of him treated like a patient instead of as the respected doctor like she. "Unbelievable."

"That I'm sitting on a patient bed like one of our patients when I'm really all right?" Dan asked sarcastically. He sat up and stretched, physically unharmed from the almost accident. Celeste was lucky to not get him hurt by her own hand. She was going to have a talk with her once Dan was free to leave. So far, no trauma found, once she was finished with examination. She ignored his question altogether, not caring what the answer was that he settled on.

"Celeste really saved me, and I want to thank her if I see her again," Dan told her, still smiling awkwardly. Mirela looked at him from the corner of her eye, seeing this, but her senses said otherwise. He was grateful, but he obsessively wondered how Celeste got to him so fast, from wherever she'd been before the Chevy screeched his way on the remnants of the ice on the road. Not that she wanted Dan dead, but her friend might as well blew their cover for the world, jeopardized their existence. He was going to find out sooner or later.

"I suppose you were lucky," was all she could settle on.

Dan sputtered in disbelief. "L-lucky? She was nowhere near me, and it happened so fast. What was that? Adrenaline rush?"

Mirela laughed, putting the clipboard back into place. "Perhaps it was. It can happen, if not all the time. Celeste really let herself go to save your skin out there, Daniel."

"Yeah, I think she did."

The day was almost over, and her shift was ending soon. She and Celeste had a girls' night out tonight, out for some fresh animal blood to fill their fridge and feast for themselves. And Dan was cleared for release; he was a doctor, not a patient, after all. Now that he was free to go home, though his car was damaged to near one of the headlights, he could really use a look into.

In his house.

~o~

 _"What the hell took you so long to come home?"_

Dan almost laughed, but it would only make Herbert angrier. He walked over to the fridge and opened it to pull the latest blood bag out; there were five left, and Herbert had a refill once every two days. Tearing the top rim open, Dan popped it open and brought it over to Herbert's dish, squeezing it all inside until the bag was halfway filled. His tubes and strands taking it all in, Herbert's eyes closed as he sighed with pleasure. "Almost car crash," Dan answered. "The road still has some ice, you know. And it's rained the last few days.

Herbert snorted. _"And what? You stayed behind to get looked over? You couldn't have survived it without injury just like that."_

"Maybe not, but I'd have been dead if it wasn't for Celeste. Mirela's assistant. I mean, she got to me so fast I didn't even see her around." He put the blood bag down and ran his hand through his hair as he let his thoughts run abuzz again. How could she have been so impossibly fast and strong to save his life like that? She and her employer and best friend never seem to feast in any way, and they never go out when the sun was out. Plus, their skin was so pale it was almost snowy white, and they had those unusual yet irresistibly striking eyes no one else did.

What in God's name _were_ they?

 _"I suppose you were lucky."_ Herbert's eyes flickered up and watched him, pursing his lips together; his words matched Mirela's as though their minds were linked. _"You're no good to me dead, remember?"_ Dan glowered at him and his matter-of-fact attitude. Of course he wasn't good to him dead; his assistance, that was all he ever needed of Dan. What about friendship, which was more than just working together? Didn't anything else matter to him beside the work? What about Mirela? Could she get him on his feet as soon as they gave him a new pair?

Dan left Herbert for the night, going upstairs and straight for his bedroom - his residence was at the end of the town, barely into the wooded area with no upstairs, only one floor and the basement, as well as one bedroom, the kitchen and sitting area - and walked into his modestly furnished room, sitting on the bed and looking down at the picture framed in vintage wood, at the faces of the smiling couple during one of the formal events hosted by her father. He wore the charming black-and-white tux, while she was a goddess in her luxuriously crystal-beaded red dress, her soft golden hair cut short but rich with shine as vivid as her eyes, clear as the sky and filling his soul with immense joy. The moment Dan stared into the eyes of the woman he loved, he wished he'd been quick enough to save her. He wished he hadn't delayed trying to get the burned freak's hold off her neck before he grabbed the axe. He could have gotten the axe faster.

So many things he could have done.

And so many things he could have done to save Francesca, but her heart stabbed happened so fast and could not have been repaired just as easily, and she would have gone to the police anyways. But still, she had been his last chance at happiness, suffering hell with him and ultimately succumbing to it...like Meg.

Opening the little black box he kept beside the picture of them all these years, he glimpsed the ring he wanted to give her once he'd graduated and made their engagement open to the world, and to her father, and felt a tear come. How ironic that this style was a take on the forget-me-not flower for true love and remembrance, including the tragic story of its origins. The band was yellow gold, with three stones; two brilliant blue pear-shaped sapphires complimenting the gracefully elevated round diamond in the middle. This was her...it was the color of her hair, of her soft skin, and of her eyes. But this would never be given to her now. He kept it as means of keeping her memory alive.

After some minutes which felt like hours, Dan closed the box and put it back next to the framed photograph.

~o~

As a vampire, the traits carried as a human being are enhanced, most often with excellent night vision and the ability to see things that others could not. Naturally nocturnal did not mean they could not operate during the daytime if they didn't want to. However, during the day when exposed to bright light, the skin did not burn easily as the myths portrayed her kind - superstitions' sake only - because once the sun hit the flesh, the surface would not burn, but glimmer luminously as a pearl. If a normal person saw, they would know you were not human at all.

Besides the aforementioned night vision, other upgraded natural senses included smell, taste and touch, as well as hearing from miles upon miles away. Hearing was devoid of any obstacle such as electronic buzzing. Vision in both daylight and nightfall was clear as a crystal; anything to smell from any distance was so strong you could almost taste it, a take on the old saying itself. Taste of blood was indescribable, but a frenzy would begin, and it was impossible to stop until the body was drained of it. And last but not least, touch was like they had as a human, but for a human being experiencing the sensations of an undead being, it was ice-cold, like the lowest of subzero temperatures.

Vampires were obviously faster and stronger than the average human being who exercised or not, and regenerative properties consisted of tissue healing faster, speed naturally so resulting in catching a fallen object before it could hit the ground. But while a person took time to adjust to their agility, a vampire adjusted that much faster. Illness was unheard of, as the immune system was a thousand times stronger than a human's, but how this immune system came to be remains unknown to this day.

And incredible skills that a mere mortal would never possess were gifts instead of burdens. Each vampire who possessed them varied from telepathy, premonition, healing, aura sensing, and a variety of others. These abilities were what made these immortal beings extraordinary.

Mirela and Celeste would hide out at their shared apartment in Boston - one of affordable luxury living and unique modern quality - until the sun had fully set, and then they would abandon their guises for something wilder and escape into the night, on the prowl for their night meal, active and alert. Mirela abandoned her sophisticated doctoral suit for something of sheer elegance: a short black dress with spaghetti straps, the overdress opaque and cap-sleeved, flower-petal hemmed, and lavishly embroidered. Celeste was more carefree and bubbly, choosing a dress that would make her appear as a wood sprite, for the dress was fresh as the forest, evoking life's springtime and youth. She flounced in it behind Mirela as they soared through the trees, hungry as they were, but also behaving like a pair of young human girls sneaking away from their parents' houses for some late night romps...and not in the inappropriate sense, involving each other, which Mirela found to be an offense against Nature.

She and Celeste had only been in Arkham a few months, but after some weeks of settling in did they come across, one night, a particular, isolated house at the end of town, near the woods. It was single-floored, with a window facing the direction of the trees and the porch supported by smooth stone pillars. The lights were off, but you could never be too careful if you wanted to break into a person's home in general. However, when you're a vampire, you master ninja skills...and the best way it seemed to get in was through the chimney. The girls crept across the grassy lawn on bare feet - the need for shoes on hunt was unnecessary. Mirela had contemplated getting in there, as the feeling that there was something there that she was sure she recognized but never investigated bothered her nerves, but Celeste was always the more cautious one.

"Mirela, you know this is classified breaking and entering."

"I _know_ someone is here. I feel a...presence here," Mirela had admitted the first time. "A presence I haven't felt in a long time." Her special abilities involved sensing the presence of others, including who was to be trusted and who shouldn't be, as well as healing coming from the heart, for lack of a better phrase and explanation to anyone who would ask.

Celeste had given a little sniff. "If you're talking about the man you finally allowed yourself to be with in Europe...?"

Mirela had rolled her eyes. "Cel, his name was Herbert West. IS Herbert West. He's been missing all this time, but _not_ dead, and I can feel it. I need to find him." Never could she have forgotten the man who had made her feel alive and vibrant again, inspired her to do a lifetime's worth of research that she had spent after leaving Switzerland, after Gruber died of the heart attack, and she returned to New Orleans. Most of the time was leaving after every ten or so years, as her age was supposed to be ten years older than she looked, but Celeste was finished with the town of her birth, life, death and rebirth.

But Herbert still lived in her long-lasting memory; dreams were unnecessary as vampires never slept.

This house, they later discovered, belonged to none other than Daniel Cain, friend and colleague...and now that they were getting closer, Mirela had to ask herself this: why else would he ask her about a...private operation? She and Celeste scaled the walls of the house and climbed down the chimney.

"While I find him, you scout the house for any signs of movement and alert me at once." Their way of keeping in touch with each other out of range and distance was by means of telepathy, the ability to communicate through means other than the senses, as by the direct exchange of thoughts.

Celeste sighed. "Fine."

"Why don't you at least use your psychic abilities to sense him?" Celeste possessed the powers to see the future, see things and sense things that either didn't happen yet or happened somewhere else, even telekinesis to move objects via mental and spiritual power. But even Celeste couldn't keep track of the long-missing Herbert West.

Getting down the chimney hadn't been difficult. The sooner she crawled out and stood, Mirela scanned her surroundings. The place wasn't much furnished, but there was a grand piano, a couple armchairs, and shelves upon shelves of books. She glimpsed the kitchen, as well as a couple doors. She figured that one was to a bedroom...and the other led far down below, to a basement or something. Now that she thought "basement", she sensed that there was yet something more familiar...and then she heard _it_.

"Do you hear that?"

Celeste was right behind her in a split second. "Yes, I do. And it's coming from there."

The basement door was left unlocked, as though Dan never thought anyone woul break into his house, just innocent to the rest of the world...but not to Mirela and Celeste's senses. It would have been innocent if it weren't for the muffled noises coming from behind it. It would have been classified as a music box downstairs that kept running if she didn't extend her senses and recognize the noises as words.

Something was downstairs in the basement. Something that Dan Cain did not want anyone in the world to see, but now for unknown reasons, he had somehow decided to place his faith in Mirela. She took a deep breath and reached to open it, but then her friend stopped her.

"I don't think it's a good idea."

Mirela turned her head only halfway. "Nothing frightens me anymore, remember? Go scout as you said you would." She didn't need to see if Celeste left to do as she said, instead returned to finishing her task.

The sooner she opened the door, seeing darkness but everything was a flash of silver in night vision, did she gasp. Not at the surroundings of cleaned shelves, closed cabinets, but the thing rested in the square dish in the middle of the long table - and the IV attached to it.

She didn't have it in her to call the finding - that _thing_ \- in the dish, filled with human blood and plasma, the most appalling thing that anyone else would have ever seen. She could see the back of the head just fine from the top of the stairs; the hair was dark, alone in this dreary room and shut away from the rest of the world cruelly but necessarily. Mirela mustered her willpower to leave the lights off, jumped over the railing of the staircase and silently landed on her feet, right beside the table.

Now she saw the face of the thing in the dish.

She felt her dead heart sink at once when her black eyes met green behind large-framed spectacles. Though she had no heated blood coursing through her veins, she felt herself leap with joy and crumble into despair at the same time. She had found what - or rather WHO - she was looking for, but not in the way she had expected.

Mirela tried to smile as she gazed down at the face of her lost former lover, Herbert West. The _head_ of Herbert West, long ago taken from its body. She had been right all along. And she seethed in anger, now that she was certain that this was Daniel's purpose for the "private operation".

"Herbert."

~o~

He felt his eyes flare at the sound of _her voice..."Mirela. You came. How did you find me?"_ He blinked once, twice. It had been two years since he saw her, but it felt like an eternity as he suffered numbing pain, unable to walk into the world as a punishment for his "sins". Now she'd found him; the lights had not been turned on, there was no sound of footsteps as he remembered her known to do, but her magical voice was unmistakable.

"I sensed you," she answered. Reaching in, she gently massaged his scalp with her nails, tenderly as though afraid her powerful touch would break his fragile flesh. Herbert let out a gasp at the sensation as it had been so long that he'd been touched like this. "I've searched for you all this time, but I never found any trace of you until now. This house..." She gave the room another quick look around. "...I knew there was something."

 _"My love..."_ He coughed once, twice. _"...you must go. Dan..."_

"...Cain," she finished for him, her anger rising with all the fury of an ancient volcanic core. "He told you about me, but he never told me about YOU."

And Dan kept silent for good reasons; Herbert would never reveal what his Mirela really was, for his own reasons of fearing that Dan would act out and either avoid her the best he could, or perhaps kill her out of his own fear. But now with recent events with her assistant - this Celeste woman - Daniel was growing suspicious enough for Herbert to settle on discovery eventually. He had done the same with Mirela, after all. Vampires do their best to hide their true selves unless they revealed themselves to the person they trusted. However, sometimes life-threatening situations to the human they formed an immense attachment to forced them to reveal a part of themselves to save that life. Like Celeste saving Dan's life.

"What happened to your body, Herbert?" Mirela asked softly.

~o~

Celeste could hear the conversation through the telepathic connection she shared with her dear friend and sister figure, and it broke her heart. She was angry with herself for doubting Mirela in the slightest, yet a part of her had always believed her. Mirela was her friend; friends should never doubt or lie to each other.

She stood over the sleeping form of the man in the darkened room; her night vision silvery amid the black, allowing her to see better in the dark. If she were a human again, her rational side would have chastised her for being creepy and stalkerish - a childish American phrase - but she didn't have it in her. The smell of him...it was of exotic saffron and bold bergamot, warmed with rich woods. Delicious. She almost wanted to devour him whole, but the sight of his face stopped her. That, and his body build - everything from his muscular chest and abs, arms and broad shoulders, back up to his handsome face and wavy brown hair. He was nothing like the one she should have married, that long-lost memory nothing compared to this one before her...

Celeste hadn't felt this way since that one time she had thought would be her ultimatum, her final step towards happiness and fairytale happily ever after like her mother and grandmother used to read her when she had been a child. It felt so beautiful, so wonderful to have that feeling again the first time she met Dan Cain...but no, she couldn't have it again. Dan probably wouldn't even last, or perhaps he wouldn't even want her despite all those times before. Her eyes fell to the picture on the nightstand beside the bed.

There was the handsome doctor in the bed, in that picture; beside him was a blonde beauty in red, short hair of liquid gold like her own, and they were smiling to the camera. _Meg Halsey._ It dawned on her, seeing a near resemblance, that one of Dan's reasons for adoring her was the fact she reminded him of his long-dead girlfriend.

She turned to leave before she noticed the object beside the photograph of him and Megan. It was a little black box, which she suspected would hold a ring. Picking it up and opening it without a second thought, her suspicions proved right. The ring reminded her of the forget-me-not, one of her favorite flowers, and it sparkled despite the darkness. This ring he was supposed to give to her before she died...

Mirela's voice through their connection snapped her out of her thoughts: _We have to go now. We need to hatch a plan._

 _What plan?_ Celeste returned, closing the box and putting the ring back where she'd found it.

 _We're getting Herbert out of here. And we're taking Dan with us._

She gave him one last look before retreating from the room.

~o~

 _"Mirela, please don't abandon me,"_ Herbert begged, eyes wild and frantic. _"You can't leave me like this; I want a BODY! I want to be with you again, I want to work on the re-agent -!"_

"I'm not going away for good again," Mirela promised him, stroking the crown of his head, making him sigh again. It seemed without a body, her touching every part of his skull was the only source of pleasure she could give him. It broke her heart and enraged her at the same time. "I'll return tomorrow night, after my friend and I have come up with a plan." She paused when the lights turned on, and a golden buzz dropped beside her in a flash.

"So, what's the plan you speak of?"

Mirela smiled at the entrance of her friend, but it faded fast when Celeste stopped abruptly and gasped at what she saw in the dish, but said nothing. "Here he is, and I told you so."

Celeste gulped anxiously. "Um, _bonjour_ , Dr. West." It seemed awkward to her, talking to a head in a dish. "I'm Celeste Roberts, her secretary at the hospital."

Herbert smiled so slightly. _"I know who you are."_

"I've lived daylight hours helping people and saving lives," she answered. "But I've also found a way to conquer death. I spent the last two years doing so."

Those eyes flared up in a matter of seconds. _"Alas,"_ he breathed, coughing slightly as though catching something in his opened windpipe, the blood beneath the stump of his neck bubbling slightly. _"You finished what I started. Now I can continue my work..."_ His voice lowered, sounding sad and discouraged. Hopeless. _"But I need a body."_

Celeste leaned forward, studying his face closely. "What did he do to you, Dr. West?"

 _"Please...Herbert. And the last of my subjects took my body, destroyed all my years of painstaking hard work."_ His mouth curled into a snarl of rage. _"My body was crushed under the crypt, but Dan pulled me out. My body was too broken to be saved, but my head was the opposite. But the one to take my head off was Francesca."_ His gaze darted back and forth between both women.

"Francesca?" Celeste repeated softly.

 _"His woman, after Meg. We found Meg's heart from the hospital, preserved after being removed from her body and waiting to be given new life. Other women's parts - the legs of a hooker, womb of a virgin, and others - were joined to her heart, but she wasn't the one he remembered. She almost killed Francesca, a mindless bimbo from Peru he almost swayed over to - he would have left me because he did not approve of my new methods with body parts and creating new life with them - before Francesca was killed by one of the monsters, after he returned for me following the crypt adjacent to our lab collapsing. Dan tried to save her, but she lost it and took my head from my body. He came to his senses eventually, killed her himself and left her that way."_ His smile was wry and devoid of any emotion. _"He lost everything he had, staying by my side and trying to find me a new body, but no such luck. I suppose I know what it feels like, to live without a body. It's the only thing I relate to Dr. Hill for, the only man I know who truly deserved to die for his crimes."_

"Dr. Carl Hill." Of course Mirela knew about him. His theories were about the location of the will of the brain, though too similar to Dr. Gruber's, enough to be called plagiarism. Herbert had killed him for it; it that was true, then Herbert's actions were justified enough to mean full well that Hill did indeed deserve whatever it was he got. "Where is the re-agent?" She had her own share at her and Celeste's shared apartment, but Herbert deserved his in his own reach. She had her theory that the solution had to keep Herbert alive all this time, but administered after a certain period of time, given it wore off like your average medication wearing off in your system some time later.

 _"In the cupboards, behind me,"_ Herbert answered. _"Dan gives me an injection once a month. A month is it for me until the re-agent wears off."_ He exhaled again, sharper than before. _"I can't remember how long it's been, but I guarantee it hasn't been too long."_

"Mirela, we should go home and think this over," Celeste suggested, putting a hand on her arm. "Dan asked you to be here tomorrow anyway, and we have all day to make our plans."

Herbert was watching them with a blank expression, though it was clear he agreed with her. Mirela smiled down at him, leaning to kiss his soft forehead and then his dainty nose. "You'll be out of here soon then, my darling. We'll come back tomorrow night. We'll give you a new body soon enough."


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

"Now do you believe me?" Mirela asked once they returned to their five-story apartment, residing on the second floor up. She entered first, switching the lights back on and illuminating the entrance hall's buttery yellow walls and warm ivory marble floors. The ivory window curtains at every window were drawn so that no eyes were allowed to peek in and detect any form of activity at this time of night. "Just like whenever I sense something and I tell you what it is -"

Celeste held up one hand behind her as she turned her back to Mirela whilst closing the door and locking it. "Spare me the lecture. And yes, my apologies," she said with a sincere smile.

Mirela returned the smile. "Accepted, as always. Now..." She walked into the kitchen and made way for the stainless steel fridge pulling out a blood bag and grabbing a couple of glasses from the cupboard next to it. "...we must begin to make our plans."

Celeste walked in the other direction, which was the living room, immaculately clean with the rustic flooring bared of carpeting save for the one under the glass coffee table and under the modern table set against the opposite wall which was rarely used, serving only as décor since they never had any guests. The fireplace remained unlit for the time being, just behind and a couple feet from said table. Celeste sat down on the patterned chair to the opposite left of the long sofa, watching as her housemate brought their drinks and survival. The blood of a deer from three nights before, a lone male who had no doe or baby to rejoin. Deer was one of their shared favorites.

"How exactly do we plan to help West?" Celeste asked curiously, accepting hers and clinking it with Raven's.

The ebony-haired woman pondered this for a moment. She stared ahead at the vintage-framed mirror above the sofa, seeing nothing in particular. "Well, gathered that he and Herbert used to work together, but now that Herbert is but a head, I doubt Dan has been able to find him a body despite the formula testing successful. And from what I've gathered, Herbert hasn't been happy with any of the choices, either. The perfect one is ALWAYS hard to find."

"You're right. Mirela..." Celeste set her empty glass down on the table's edge, far away to avoid a spill on the spotless white carpet. "...you spent the last two years on a long search for him without so much as a trace of his whereabouts. Now that you found him again and he has no body, _how_ are you going to do this?"

"I don't know yet," Mirela returned. "But I know him too well."

"And you were with him for only a short amount of time," the blonde pointed out. "Unlike your poor husband, rest him."

"Speak of Vlad that way again," Mirela hissed. "I lost one love before..."

"To a hunter like all the rest."

"...and now another, whom I refuse to lose again," she finished strongly, slamming her drink down onto the table then, whilst careful not to break it and spill remnants of the red fluids of life, much less crack the table surface itself. "I gather Herbert, being the genius mind that he is, would know of a way. Why else would Dan want to ask me to get him a body?"

Her friend's eyes widened; the pupils were practically dominating the bronze of a young bloodsucker. "Are you saying...Frankenstein's way? Detached body to the detached head?"

Mirela smiled. "Obviously, precisely what I am saying." Her method of stopping death actually involved something more than just the re-agent, but the formula itself worked, even though she had no idea if Herbert's differed from hers. One way to find out, but that would have to wait for a shorter while longer. And the other method, which could lead to only one thing, which had been world-widely shunned and disgusted upon by humanity since the dawn of time, expanded by Mary Shelley's hand on paper following mad doctors before her own creation. And Celeste's face said it all.

"B-But Mirela, it's –"

"It's what?" Mirela scoffed, shaking her head so her loose waves bounced about either side of her face. "An abomination in the eyes of God? Like those ignorant humans with their beliefs of an idyllic afterlife and hell which one of His most beautiful and favored angels was cast out for being his own self? Please, my dear, I thought you knew too well by now. There is no God to strike us down, and we're going to live forever, unless we are killed by a hunter." She laughed. "Which won't happen since we do what we do best."

"Yes, you are right, as ever." Celeste sighed, then regained herself, straightening and giving her a pointed look. "And I've been around for fifteen years longer than I was then. That isn't as long as you."

"Of course not." Raven stood up and picked up the glasses to clean and put away. "Now that we have that off our chests..." She stopped. Dr. Dan Cain harbored a very dark secret from the rest of the world, but that also meant letting him on theirs, too. That meant bringing - no, then people would be looking for him, because Dr. Cain, like Dr. Vale, was never known to miss out a day at the hospital. Except she would whenever the sun was out, making up the excuse of a vacation in the woods. She felt her gut clench as she once more thought back to their first meeting in Dr. Gruber's class, which had not gone off to a rather good start, but changed only months later and she "warmed up" to him...she giggled at the phrase and how alive she had felt then for the first time in forever.

"Mirela?"

"Hmm?"

"You stopped right there." Celeste raised an eyebrow, the right side of her mouth twitching as though trying not to smile. She'd read her housemate's mind, but Mirela wasn't embarrassed by much of anything anymore. They were no strangers, after all.

"Yes, I did. I thought about keeping them here for the time being, but then people would be looking for him. It's too risky if he doesn't show up at the hospital."

The calm broke before the storm.

"WHAT?!" Celeste was on her feet in an instant, knocking the chair over onto its back. "You actually meant to keep Daniel Cain in _our_ home?!" Her voice practically shook the walls loud enought to nearly penetrate and get into their neighbors' next door.

"Keep your voice down," Mirela hissed. "And yes." She felt the rubble inside her as she detected not only the high-level sense that the man could try to escape, but something along the lines of what Herbert sparked in her. "Oh, seriously, I sense you feel more for him than I should know," she said, cracking a grin.

The other woman's eyes grew the size of saucers, her jaw slackened. "So what if I do, Mirela? The man's handsome, more so than the one I was taken from..." Had she still had human blood in her veins, she would have flushed pink with embarrassment.

"Of course. Dan's been looking at you that way, too. He really likes you, but after losing Megan, he's afraid to get his heart broken again. Sounds like two other people we know." Mirela winked, but her sympathy was on the rise again. Daniel had lost a woman he loved, had his attention on her friend who reminded him of the dead woman - she detected it was more than just longing for the body, same for Celeste.

It was all the same as it had been for her and Herbert. She loved him, no longer denying it. He'd lost his precious life, and once she gave him a new one, it meant ultimately defeating death for him, so he could live a lifetime with her. Even if it meant protecting him and never failing him like she did the night Vlad was taken from her.

~o~

 _"Get out of here, Mirela." He was looking down at her, his deep eyes hard and silently demanding that she obey him. The castle was surrounded, and this was a life-or-death struggle. No, no she did not want to lose him. Not this way. She would NOT allow herself to be torn away from him._

 _"There must be another way out of here..." she tried to say._

 _"There is_ not _." He took her by both forearms and kissed her rough. It wasn't warm and passionate as it had always been; now it was cold and devoid of any source of happiness with the present circumstances. "My love, you must go and save yourself. He will be here soon; he is better than the others. Remember I've fought him before."_

 _Footsteps sounded behind them, causing them both to whip around to the end of the hall and see the cloaked man with his hood over his head_ \- _but his face was seen, and he was extremely scruffy, which made him appear all the more sinister_ \- _advancing their way from the end of the grand hallway. This was the man Ioana sold them out to. "He's here," Vlad hissed. "Go now!"_

 _She decided now was not the time to stay by and get killed beside him, the man she loved for so long, who brought her into a better world than which she had lived. A better world that still proved as hard as her former one, filled with as much danger as the mortals. Only she would not allow herself to become dust. There were still things she wanted to do, as he encouraged her, and it was for the best to never let it go to waste. She took off with greater lightning speed than she could ever recall, stopping once in awhile to hide behind pillars and not make a sound once her senses detected new voices and auras coming in._

 _Ducking behind statues would only be short-lived, and if any other hunters caught her scaling the walls, then she was doomed. The shouts of the angry villagers outside the gates could be heard; part of her blamed Vlad for letting himself slip up and letting Ioana live, but she would never tell him directly. If she lost him and he died thinking his wife blamed him for a mistake, she would regret it forever._

 _And then the force of the death aura hit her worse than any storm. Mirela bit back a groan as she felt the lifeforce of her beloved mate vanish in a matter of moments. The hunter had gotten him, the mighty Vlad, the greatest warrior who lived in the mid-fifteenth century, gone forever._

 _Gone from her life._

 _Gone from her ETERNAL life._

 _But she had to save her life, as she'd been told. There were so many places to hide, and nobody knew that she was Count Dracula's bride. She was known simply as the head village physician at such a remarkable young age, having served for only a few years, given she'd learned a long time ago that when you're a vampire, you never stay in one place too long enough for anybody to notice how you never seem to age. She would worry about that once she was out of here._

 _"Well, what have we here?" Mirela bolted her head up and hissed viciously at the sight of the crossbow pointed at her. The wench did not know that she had gotten too close; she was going to let her think again. "Looks like the master will be happy that I found out who the monster's mistress is: the doctor herself."_

 _"_ Şi de dragul meu Vlad va fi dreapta cu tine de curând _," Mirela replied - translated to "And my dear Vlad will be right with you soon" - flickering her gaze upwards to fool the incompetent woman, who was clearly no fully trained hunter by means. Once the woman's head jerked back around, Mirela grabbed the crossbow and flung it out of the way, then grabbed the woman and bit down on her neck, chewing off the delicious meat and drinking down the blood, piercing a main vein and artery to get what she wanted. The woman's screams would be heard, but her body would be found too late._

 _This had always been against her morals; she was a doctor who saved lives, longed to help people, but she never fed on human blood, living only on that of animals, one of the things she and Vlad had never agreed on, yet respected each other's wishes. Dropping the corpse to the ground, a little blood splattering from the opened wound due to the impact onto the skirt of her dark velvet dress with lush red rose brocade down the front, Mirela turned and bolted out of the nearest window she could find, gliding through the air as she would survive the fall...and vanished over the other side of the river, hiding in the trees for some time, turning back one last time to glimpse the castle which her first true love had been ripped from her, where she had spent her immortal life thus far. Looking down then, she saw that she needed to blend back in with the commonfolk; in a fury, she ripped off her dress and tossed the shreds into the night._

 _Silently, she swore her revenge on the man who took Vlad from her. And if she ever found Ioana, she would do what her husband could never do. But for now, a place of sanctuary and peace to find._

 _Peace that she would not feel for a much longer time to come._

~o~

"Good morning, Mirela."

She looked up in exasperation from the broken shin x-rays for Eileen Watters that she was looking over, grimacing at the smile the person she did _not_ want to see right now. Jon Falcone was the last person she wanted to encounter today; since she'd come to Arkham, he'd been constantly watching her with a look that she was all too familiar with over the years, whenever she detected it off of a hunter under cover...and this was no time to be ingorant, but she was always on her guard. He sometimes made attempts to get her to have lunch or at least go to dinner with him, but Dan was always there to save her life.

Speaking of which...

"The doctor is busy, Jon," he said, coming from behind and squeezing through the doorway and into Mirela's immaculate white office popped with black. "Aren't you?" he added with a little wink that would make most women faint, even make Celeste herself flare.

"What does it look like?" she returned smoothly, her own lips in a thin line.

Jon chuckled and shook his head, physically nudging Daniel aside. "Listen, Cain, I don't think anyone asked you to be here when I wanted to ask Dr. Vale if she was interested in chicken falafel."

Mirela hissed and stood with the rigidity of stone and grace of a soldier. "No, thank you. I tell you every time you ask me, Falcone. I feast with Dr. Cain and Miss Roberts outside. If anything, if anyone like you can call me an outcast, these trusting people are better than no one at all."

He scowled, then shifted his burning eyes to Dan, who returned it undaunted. "Jesus, I was only being a gentleman, which you need to have, Mirela. You don't even mingle with the rest of us humans, just these two."

There was no mistaking what form of "humans" he was talking about. Everyone saw in the few times in the breakroom that Dr. Vale and her secretary never ate or drank anything despite joining Dr. Cain. That include Jon Falcone, whom Mirela gave a hard look when he did not budge from her office door. "Well, aren't you going to join the others now that I gave you my answer?"

That chuckle again, add in a shake of the head. "Yes. I shall see you again later, _Doctor_ ," he drawled her title before closing the door, glowering at Dan one more time, and leaving her fuming.

He was provoking her because he was on her tail; her senses were _always_ correct. All this time he was trying to provoke her into action. Well, she would let him think again. The door closed, and Mirela was alone with Dan now. " _Nenorocitule_." Meaning "bastard".

Dan laughed. "I still don't know what that guy thinks he sees in you, but I don't like him rattling on you like that."

"You're right." She didn't have to waste the time and give her brain trouble as to who would be the perfect candidate for Herbert's new body. Jon was dark-haired and dark-eyed, fitting for the other human girls' descriptions of "tall, dark, and handsome" and "every girl's dream"; his body build was near enough to match Herbert's former. He was PERFECT. Mirela knew it would be a matter of time before anyone noticed he was missing, but it would be too late by then. "You still need my help...tonight?" He knew what she was referring to by "tonight"; he nodded as his answer, but in his mind, he was extremely afraid.

Now that she knew his dirty little secrets in his basement - as well as pieced two and two together on the Miskatonic Massacre - he had honestly chosen her because they were good friends, but he also feared she might deceive him somehow and go to the police. Well, he need not fear any longer...but he had yet to find out about her and Celeste's secrets, too.

There were little to no accidents today: a wood carver, for the most part, got his fingers sawed off in his on backyard project. He would have died fast from the blood loss if Mirela and Dan didn't interfere and speed the suturing and skin grafts to stop it all. They were applauded for their astounding efficiency and capacity, but none knew that his experiences with Herbert West had been the reasons - and Mirela's were years of traveling the world and studying medicine, sometimes pushing the boundaries because God had nothing to do with anything of the making of the world. If God truly loved his children, he wouldn't let them suffer the way they did.

~o~

Dan had gone to the store after work for some supplies for himself before Mirela came. Herbert wasn't talking to himself this time, which was strange enough. The clock ticked as time went on; it was always like this. Dan did not care much for time anymore, but that did not mean he didn't keep track of it. He fixed himself a pasta dish and some red wine - he didn't have much of an appetite anymore except for the minimal basics - savoring the silence that came after Herbert's head finished its laments before it would begin again.

And then he noticed it. The _smell._

Dan's nostrils detected sweet fruits and flowers he couldn't put a finger to, but it was unnatural. He couldn't recall owning any of the sort in his house. It eventually dawned on him that _somebody was in his house_.

"That is because someone _is_ in."

He spun around, nearly jumping out of his skin when his eyes at last landed on _Mirela_ standing in the middle of the room. She stood rigid, dressed in black - leather jacket, tank, jeans and boots - and her ebony hair pinned behind her head, a few strands falling free. How the HELL did she get into his house?

It dawned on him: _the chimney._

"How did you get in without permission?" he demanded, putting down his wine glass, his anger ebbing just like that. "What are you doing here in my house?"

Mirela smiled, her ruby lips stretching in mild amusement. "Really, Dr. Cain, I'd have thought you were happy your friend came by."

"Came in, broken and entered without my permission. We might be friends, but you ought to know the rules still apply."

She laughed and shook her head, taking a single, slow, deliberate step his way. "Oh, well, this was part of the plan anyway."

Dan blinked. Plan? What plan? He was now beginning to regret his decision - every one of them, from becoming friends with her and asking her to partner with him - because now she was looking at him with a dangerous look he didn't like one bit.

"You want to know what plan," Mirela said as though reading his mind. "Before we get to business, perhaps a discussion is in order. I suppose you might have some...ideas that Celeste and I aren't as human as we seem to be. Can you think of a guess as to what?" It sounded like she was challenging him, just making sure he didn't sneak his way out and reveal who she and her roommate and secretary really were to the world. Why would he do that?

"Because you know that there's no way out, that you're as much a part of this as your old friend West was. If you know what we are, then say it out loud."

Dan almost gasped; how did she know about Herbert? Looking at her more closely, the nearly stark-white skin and inhuman eye color - as well as no human food habits, refusal to step out into the sun - snapped from his brain something he suddenly remembered reading among his vast collection of books from a child up to now. Another creature of horror besides the zombies like the ones Herbert brought back to life. How could he have not seen it before?

"You're a vampire," he stated, not believing that a hospital physician would simply learn about him and pay him a visit. "A doctor _and_ a vampire. A bloodsucker who reads minds." It made sense given the line between reality and fantasy blurred since the day Herbert West turned his whole world upside down.

"I knew you would catch up on that someday sooner than later." He backed into the kitchen counter as she neared him. "But I should also ask you: are you really afraid of us?"

He opened up his emotions to himself that he knew she would catch on as he answered. "No."

"Not even wondering WHAT we eat?" she teased.

If she was going to hurt him, she would have done so a long time ago, but she gave no indication of doing so. "You don't...drink human blood," he said softly, receiving a nod. "What is it, then?"

"Celeste and I survive off animals. We're different from others of our kind in that direction, although not everyone loathes us for not joining the pack, if you know what I mean," Mirela said with a little laugh, stepping away. "Alright, Celeste, you can join us now."

Dan looked to the fireplace when she gracefully slid out from under, dressed similar to Mirela but with a white blouse that got a small amount of soot. He had never seen her look so natural - and so ethereal at the same time, but now that he knew she was really an immortal bloodsucker, he thought he'd be afraid now...but he wasn't. He never was and never would be.

"I think details on the two of us can wait until we get down to business, don't you think?" Mirela asked as she started her way over to the basement. Dan watched her, stunned that she boldly crossed over. It was like she _knew_ about Herbert downstairs. He wasn't surprised she knew about the massacre, but _this_ was more than he expected.


	7. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

Seeing her face, he sucked in a loud breath, then let it out softly. _"You came back,"_ he breathed.

Dan stared first at his friend's head and then back up to Mirela with wide eyes. "Don't tell me you were here in my house before," he warned, even though he knew deep down that she HAD.

"You already know the answer, Daniel," Mirela answered with a slight smile, ignoring him and Celeste altogether and leaning down to kiss Herbert's bottom lip, paying no mind to the smell of the blood beneath as well as Dan's internal disgust at her kissing a severed head on the mouth. Herbert's moan was of pure pleasure at tasting her lips for the first time in forever.

"That's..." Dan was on the verge of saying disgusting, which made her nearly lose it. Was she imagining things, or was their friendship on the verge of changing just because they knew each other's secrets now? Mirela stood straight and turned around to give him the look, and he lowered his eyes to the ground right away. "Sorry."

"Of course you are. But I don't blame you. Would you soon as kiss one of us?" She smirked to one corner of her mouth when she motioned to Celeste behind her with the back of her head, sensing her roommate's discomfort. Dan didn't respond. "Well, should we get to business or what?"

Finally, he looked back at her. "You know everything about me." It wasn't a question, and she nodded. "Herbert, or did you find out yourself?"

Herbert made a slight gurgling sound, making all eyes turn onto him. _"Excuse me, Daniel, but if you're going to talk about me, at least ask ME that question,"_ he scolded with a twitch of a smile. _"And in answer to your question, I shared my line of how my head was taken at the hands of Francesca."_

Mirela looked him straight in the eyes. "After we arrived in Boston, I sensed something...off about you. Something about you so...isolated and private. You were hiding yourself from the rest of the world, but then it changed once we became friends after I helped you save the heart attack victim." Dan smiled at the memory; he had been appalled but ecstatic when she succeeded in massaging the heart to life with her own bare hands. "We found the news article on the massacre, the deaths...including that of..." She paused, knowing mentioning Megan Halsey's name would pain him utterly, but he knew what she was trying to say.

"Her death was the reason I stayed with Herbert. I was hoping she wouldn't have died in vain, and I actually believed we could defeat death...but then you," he said to Herbert, teeth clenched, "had to corrupt our reasearch and turn it into something charnel."

Herbert's eyes flared, and his lip curled. " _So, you're bringing that up again? If not for me, not for us going to Peru, we wouldn't have made progress!"_

"We couldn't bring Meg back no matter how hard we tried to, and Francesca died because we got her into this!" Dan argued. "I was afraid to get involved with another woman because I couldn't let her get killed again!" This bickering was getting them nowhere, but before she could speak up, Celeste was there.

"Gentlemen, enough. We have everything about this off our chests, but I think we can cut to the chase once Mirela reveals her plan." _Thank you,_ Mirela sent through the air, getting a nod to the side.

"You want me to get Herbert a new body," she stated, excitement coursing through her body at once - and danger on the rise if the affair got out to the rest of the underworld. If the rest of humanity in Boston did not suspect her and Dan, then the rest in her home country would know. And that was the intended destination. "I know the perfect man, but Boston is not the best place if you're fearing discovery. The place to perform the operation is more secluded than anyone would imagine, and far from this town and prying eyes."

Dan raised an eyebrow. "Where is this...?"

"My old hideout near the river at the bottom of the mountains. I lived there for some time after my husband died. Today it is a rental place, but as far as I know, it is rarely put up for rent for unknown reasons. I believe we can manage," she said with a slight smile. "Because in two days I will book a flight to Transylvania, and we will take off the next day. No one will refuse the excuse of a family emergency because of the 'epidemic'."

Dan was still unsure about all of this, just shifting from foot to foot out of habit, but Mirela found it quite irritating. "You ought to stop worrying so much, Daniel. Because you have someone who has a less illegal way of finishing the job for you."

"Less illegal?" he repeated sarcastically. "How is it 'less illegal' when we are still going across the ocean to perform an act against -" He was struggling with accepting the fact that religion had nothing to do with any of this, and Mirela could smell it off Herbert that he was irritated as she was. Didn't experience taught him anything of this sort? Apparently not, or who knew with him.

"It won't be legal or illegal in any step of the way," she said strongly. "Because this one is a menace I could smell a mile a way. You know him, and I know him, too."

His eyes went wide to the realization. "Mirela, you - you mean to say that Jon Falcone -"

"- is the one," she finished calmly, looking from him to Celeste's equally calm but otherwise expressionless face, then down to Herbert's head, which looked distraught at being overlooked. "He's someone I saw as a menace the moment we met," she clarified. "He's the one we've been looking for, and we would be doing the world a favor."

Dan stood up and walked to her near enough to make almost bodily contact. "He's an ass, but he's never really done anything to us," he argued. She stuck her chin out at him and put her hands on her hips, infuriated that they were even having this discussion.

"Daniel, now is not the time. Just stop voicing any protests you have and get on board," she seethed. "You asked for my help, and I'm granting it. Jon Falcone is a definite menace even if not right away, and at the same time, he's perfect for Herbert. We're going to have to work together on this, unless you've changed your mind and decided to leave your friend and partner without a body out of your own sense of cowardice."

He hadn't, but he was still unsure about this. "Okay, okay, fine." He held up both hands in total surrender. "I agree to this, but don't say I didn't warn you in case things go wrong. Nothing with this ever goes without trouble." He was looking down at Herbert's head when he said this; in response, Herbert bared his teeth and hissed a warning. Mirela chuckled and shook her head as she locked eyes with him, carefully probing his mind.

For Herbert, it was hard to believe that he would soon have a body again. To think of what he could do again: he would walk again, maybe run again, he would touch things with his hands again, he would go out and enjoy the sun, go about as he pleased. He would go back to work again, with Mirela by his side now that he knew Daniel was finished with having everything he loved taken and given nothing in return.

And Mirela...he would hold her close again, kiss her again as she kissed his still warm, still soft lips not too long ago, make love to her again and feel her body against his again. He felt like crying just thinking about it; it made her want to cry, too.

"But how exactly do you see Falcone...dangerous?" Dan asked hesitantly.

"The moment we met, I saw him watching me the same way that a...hunter would see. Because hunters know our kind when they see one." Silence was in the air when she paused, waiting for one of the men to respond, but neither man spoke. Dan was about to ask if those people hunted down and kill vampires - when he knew they did - before Celeste read it, too, and answered.

"Since long before Christianity, our race has been hunted down by another which called themselves hunters. We are called monsters in their eyes because of our ways of living, so none of us are safe unless we do our best to protect ourselves. We can't be killed unless by silver, and silver stakes and arrows - and all forms of weaponry - are common amongst their armory. Mirela's husband was murdered by a hunter back in 1896."

"His name was Vlad," Mirela said softly, lowering her eyes. "Vlad III - or as you know him, Dracula."

Dan sputtered and nearly fell off his feet; he was on the verge of laughing, too, disbelieving that Dracula, the vampire count everyone knew from the stories since less than a century, had been a real being after all, and none other than the historical Vlad the Impaler. She cleared her throat, getting his attention and serious attitude back before continuing. "Since I was a child and still a human in the 1830s, he masqueraded as the village physician, taking me under his wing when I was old enough to learn about medicine and healing; we married eventually when I was eighteen years old. I always knew he was more than human, and the truth came to light when our village broke out during the revolution of 1848. He had gone off to aid with the dead and dying, and my parents' lives were in danger that I left to go to them. However, little did I know that it was when I would meet my own end.

"My parents were killed by a woman in blue, red-haired and vicious. She turned on me then, but before I could flee, she attacked and bit me." She motioned her right breast; her right nipple had been long gone less than two centuries, but she would not show for Dan's sake of being spared of blindness and uncomfortable emotions. Herbert had been shocked the next morning after the first time they made love, placing his fingers over the small concave in her breast where a nipple should be, and asked her what happened. He'd flinched when she told him, but it wasn't like they would have a child she'd nurse that way. "Just as I fell and blacked out, perhaps on the verge of dying because of the burning pain I was feeling, Vlad saved me and took me to his castle in Transylvania. We lived happily for forty-eight years until Ioana sold us out."

"Ioana?" Dan repeated.

"The vampire who killed my parents and almost killed me, too. She and Vlad were..." She paused to swallow harshly, the memory of that she-demon with her husband long before it was her and Vlad still gut-wrenching to this day. "...together before we were married. But he ended it and came to my village, blending among the commonfolk and working for a cause instead of becoming a monster. He never wanted to be a monster to begin with, I don't believe, but I chose to survive off animals instead of human blood, which became one of our minor disagreements," she said with a little laugh. "However, Ioana returned, this time bringing the end of our life and marriage: hunters and the whole village, the latter being the backup for our killers. I escaped, but my husband stayed behind and sacrificed his life...for me."

~o~

Mirela was right; he should stop denying the existence of vampires and other mythological creatures. It was fact, not fiction. They were right in front of him and Herbert's head, her and Celeste.

They had decided to stay around the house for a little while, and Mirela remained in the basement while Dan continued to fix himself some pasta, slightly feeling rude at there being guests in the house, but reminded himself they didn't eat like he did. After he finished, he decided to return to his room and change for the night - only to spot Celeste with her leather jacket discarded on the foot of the bed so she was in her white blouse and jeans, holding up the black box that was supposed to have been Meg's engagement ring. "You loved her enough to keep this," she noted, her soft French accent understanding. She'd told him once that her family had been French-born before relocating to New Orleans.

"I loved her very much," he admitted. "I met her when I was still a student at the medical school. She was the dean's daughter. I didn't care, and we were so in love that I knew she was the one I wanted to spend the rest of my life with, even proposed to her when we were in our third year. I was going to be a doctor, and she was studying pathology. But we had to keep our relationship low-key because of her father's strict Puritanism."

He paused when she gave a little laugh and shake of the head. "Puritan, was it? Well, I'm happy hardly anyone is anymore. Too custom-ridden for my taste."

Dan laughed with her and nodded. "You read my mind. Yeah, we planned to get married and start a family after graduation." He reached and picked up the ring box from her hand - his fingers brushed against her briefly, and a cold shock coursed through his skin and nerves - and staring at the petite beauty for a long time. His voice sounded hollow to his own ears. "I wanted to officially propose to her on that day, in front of her father and the whole world, so I'd gotten this the summer before third year; I knew it was for her the moment I laid my eyes on it. And then _West_ showed up and ruined it all." He gritted his teeth, sitting down on the bed. "I don't hate him anymore, but sometimes I wish I could."

Celeste sat down next to him and took the ring out of the box. "What -?" Dan started, stopping upon seeing the jewel glittering on the third finger of her left hand. He felt his jaw drop instantly.

Anybody who was single would ask, if they were superstitious, if it was bad luck to try on an engagement or wedding ring that belonged to another woman, but Daniel wasn't superstitious. He didn't consider it bad luck; a ring was a sign of love, but never let the person borrow it. It never hurt if the ring was an heirloom, but seeing what was supposed to have been _Megan's_ ring on this woman who looked like her in some ways...it looked...breathtaking on her. Why hadn't he thought of it before to show Meg before and see how it looked on her?

He knew the answer: it was supposed to be a surprise on the day they were waiting for. He was mesmerized by it, speechless, until he heard her throat cleared. Shaking his head, he looked back up at her. He found himself wondering what her eye color used to be before they were that imprssive bronze like the tiger's eye gemstone...

"My eyes used to be blue."

He jerked, slipping backwards a distance from her. What was next? Was she going to read his mind for sexual thoughts or something? Invade his privacy any other way? "Do you always do that, read and invade privacy of the brain?"

She laughed. "No, I leave that their own business. But if they have any unanswered questions, then I answer for them."

Dan calmed and moved back. "If anyone ever wondered how you knew what they were thinking..." he started.

"I never tell someone else at random," Celeste interrupted, looking down at her hand. "Just with Mirela; we know each other too well."

He remembered from the stories he read that the transition from human to vampire was _never_ pretty, yet each of them had a different side to every story. "What happened to you that...made you this way?" he asked hesitantly, motioning her glorious body...a body that resembled so much like Meg's...

"I'll warn you that it's not happy, but none of our transitions ever end so." Dan nodded, suddenly taken aback by the cut in her voice.

"The year was 1971. I was twenty-one years old. I was born in Paris, and my family moved to New Orleans since my mother was originally from there and wanted to relocate back. At the time I was known as Celeste Roux."

"Why did you change your name?"

"If my family knew I was alive, they'd have called me a freak. I've been Celeste Roberts for fifteen years; Mirela changed her last name, too, after she came to this country. You know how Romanian is often misunderstood." He nodded. "My mother was a stay at home housewife, both my grandparents died when I was barely into preschool, and my father was a company executive. I attended college, working as a secretary; it wasn't enough even though it was enough to get me through. I truly had no idea where my life would go then, but I had fun having friends and going to parties and the likes, meeting guys. That was a lifestyle my parents never approved of, but I was happy, and having so many friends, making my life as enjoyable as it could be so it wasn't so stressful all the time. At one club, I met the man of my dreams." She shook her head, her long liquid gold locks swishing over one shoulder.

"His name was Roy Hayes. He had red hair and green eyes, and so unique. What made it better, he treated me like a human being, an independent woman and a princess all in one. I could see it all happen so soon, walking down the aisle surrounded by masses of white and pink flowers to him." She gave a smile, amused at her own imagination. "Silly, isn't it?"

Dan was shocked by the question. "No, of course not." He remembered the few times Meg would tell him the type of wedding she wanted for them, not too different than the mentions of overflows of flowers. "It reminds me of what _she_ wanted," he admitted, knowing she'd read his mind. She nodded.

"We were together for about five months, always together and him bringing me white roses with this heavenly fragrance I could never describe. He even called me his French rose, called my eyes the heavenly skies. When he proposed to me in front of my parents that Christmas, the ring he gave me was truly enchanting: elegant and romantically designed yellow gold with an illustrious round diamond in the center of a mother-of-pearl flower." She sighed and swung her legs over the bed and laid down, her hands behind her head as an extra pillow, but she'd stopped her story, looking up at the ceiling with a definite scowl. Dan realized the terror was to come, because she was just like him when she got no happy ending after all that she desired.

"My parents were happy for me that I was finally settling down - and quitting the foolishness as they called it," she said, sarcastically and contemptuously, "that they decided to throw a party for us both at the house, however it wasn't anywhere near what Roy and I were used to, but we managed to sneak away to the woods out back for some more...fun," she said with a naughty glint in her eyes when she finally tore them from the ceiling to meet Dan, before it was gone, replaced by an immense sadness.

"But little did I know that would be the last night of my life."

~o~

 _"Roy, really we shouldn't!" she exclaimed as he dragged her by the wrist through the woods, even though she was laughing with excitement. She'd always been reckless and sneaking away from home to be with the girls, sometimes with him when they weren't on their "prim and proper" dates. The party going on inside the house was too classic and elegant for her taste; formality was sometimes too boring for some real fun._

 _"C'mon, Cel, we're getting married, and you don't have to answer to your parents anymore," he urged her, almsot stumbling over a thick root in the ground. The air was moist and humid, after the rainfall from an hour ago, and more was expected tonight. If they were lucky, they could sneak out again and go "dancing" in the woods. She felt like she always had been, a giddy schoolgirl ready for some action._

 _"You're right," she agreed, still laughing even when he paused at the tallest tree offering more shade than the others. "We're far enough now, so maybe we can..." She stopped her sentence right there, knowing he would finish for her._

 _"Been long enough, yeah. In three months we'll be husband and wife, and maybe we can try to make a baby before then, if we're lucky."_

 _Celeste burst out howling with laughter again. He was too perfect; he just wanted to start a family as much as she did. He'd grown up in a household where he had to take care of three younger sisters, loving them unlike any brother would in general - or any man in life, period. He was someone you never found often in life. She couldn't have been happier in her life. Unlike how her mother called her, she was more responsible than anyone thought, and she would gladly lessen her hard partying for motherhood because she had the willpower._

 _Now she felt Roy's lips on hers, and that glorious bliss washed over her and everything that was holy which she'd been taught in church long ago. She had taken to saving herself for marriage so that losing your innocence would be special enough, but now she couldn't wait because they were now alone, distances away from the house where her parents and the other guests were probably looking for them, but she decided she didn't care. Roy had her in his arms, deepening the divine kiss and moving his hands to all parts of her body save for her most intimate places. "Roy, please!" she whimpered when she broke the kiss away._

 _"Up against the tree?" he purred. She nodded, and up against the tree was where she was, his hands exploring her again, feeling through the dusty rose pink dress with the crochet sleeves and crystal droplet necklace, finding she had no undergarments. "Oh, you naughty girl."_

 _"I feel lighter. Free," she panted, the ache below her stomach worsening with each second that passed. He hitched her up then, and she wrapped her legs around his waist, her back rubbing against the tree as the passionate kiss deepened. Celeste wrapped her arms around him and moaned delightfully at this incredible feeling her body had begun to awaken to; she loved Roy with her heart and soul, but her body was arising to the heavens and begging for its savior..._

 _Celeste shrieked when Roy's body jerked away from hers, allowing her to fall from the ground and get some traces of soil on her dress; her mother would be angry that the dress was ruined, but Mother's wrath was the least of her worries. Her fiancée was nowhere in sight. "Roy?" She stood up and looked around. What had happened? They were about to make love for the first time and now he'd vanished just like that. "Roy!"_

 _In response, something fell from above, snapping tree branches and hitting the ground with a_ squish. _Celeste heard herself scream as she beheld the sight of the man she was going to marry dead at her feet, his throat gouged and ravaged, shirt torn open down the front and scratched with bared fingernails like an animal. Then she found herself shoved against the tree by some invisible force pinning her so that she found herself forced to stare into a pair of hellish black eyes set in a pale face, framed by wild fiery hair and leered at as her dress was torn from her body..._

~o~

Celeste ceased her story right there, knowing the details were too grisly for him to hear, and he agreed. He could only imagine that she endured no different than Mirela had did. "Ioana loved playing with her food before she could finish it off. She loved tearing the covers off and listening to the cries and pleas, like we were playthings to her. She loved feeling all the most valuable places, sometimes putting her mouth to use on them, but it was more than 'foreplay'. You heard Mirela." Dan hissed angrily and shifted away from her, turning his back to her. He wasn't disgusted at her, but the fact that the vampire who ravaged Mirela and killed her family, then sold her husband to hunters, had done the same to this beautiful creature on his bed. This Ioana was all levels of crazy, beyond mere bloodlust.

Celeste heard his thoughts and sat up - the bed shifted beneath him - crawling over to his side. "I wanted to die at first because the pain was overwhelming, burning worse than an inferno. Ioana indulged the torture, until Mirela came to my rescue then. She saved my life," she finished with a smile. "She'd stopped Ioana just as she'd bitten into my..." She paused and looked down in shame. "Point is she could smell the blood from less than ten miles away, but her doctoral skills couldn't do it justice. That left the one option."

She'd been bitten, Dan thought. "What was it like, the bite?"

She pursed her lips - plump and rosy, plumper than Meg's had been, more kissable. "It was like...fire burning through my veins, throughout my whole body. It lasted what felt like an eternity, but in the end, I felt it cool down like refreshing water. That's pretty much the best way to describe it. I was angry for what I was now, because Mirela couldn't just leave me to die. When she offered to take me in with her, I hated her so much because I thought death was better than living condemned. So I escaped and swore to hunt down Ioana to the ends of the earth, swearing to kill her for taking my life from me."

The way she smiled scared him almost out of his wits. It reminded of him when Herbert killed Hill, but he'd tried to blackmail him to get the work, according to Herbert. And he had to say, as much as he never wanted to admit it, Hill _did_ deserve it, mostly because of his sick obsession with Meg, and what he saw him try to do to her...so yeah, he could understand where Celeste was going with her brand of revenge against her fiancée's death and for her violation and death. "Did you ever find her?"

"Not for thirteen years, no," she answered. "I suppose she knew I would come after her and led me on a chase. I loathed her for taking my life from me; I would have been married with children by now if it wasn't for her." Her marble features had been hard as stone, now softening. "Then Mirela returned from Europe because I hadn't left my home, and she, too, knew that. By then I had forgiven her, became gracious for her saving my life. She was all I ever had left. I had adapted to my new lifestyle, changed my surname from Roux to Roberts and having the wild party of my life. Mirela and I balance, the free-spirit and the realist. But after we both lost the most important - and very first - men in our lives, we have never been with anyone else, and until Mirela had been with Herbert in Switzerland until the incident with Dr. Gruber, and Herbert was taken in to the asylum. She had become more alive than I remember her, but when she was forced to leave Herbert, it tore her up that I realized she had moved on from her husband," she stated with a small smile. "But even she couldn't have the man she loved, so it has been her and myself since then."

Dan gave an empty laugh and shook his head, moving closer to her, getting a light whiff of her scent - it was light and sensual, miscellaneous fruits and flowers he couldn't identify either, like her friend. He wondered if all vampires smelled so good like this. And she answered him. " _Oui_ , we have a unique, exquisite smell that no natural human has."

"You said you wanted to get married someday and have kids," Dan stated. "Does this mean you can't...?"

She shook her head. "No, I can't conceive. And it's too painful to comprehend. But Mirela has no problem given her lifestyle. She long ago accepted that she never wanted to endure the pain of childbirth."

"I could see Meg and I gray-haired on a front porch, surrounded by our grandchildren someday..." Dan said hollowly. "...if only I hadn't lost her..." He looked down at her ring, still around Celeste's finger, realizing how strange it was yet also perfect. How this woman, who had so much in common with his long-gone beloved, brought lost beauty to life once more...

Before he realized it, and didn't fight it because his senses were too overwhelmed by feelings he hadn't felt for a long time, Celeste's lips were meeting his, and a heated wave of intense passion arose in his body.

 **Thanks to Rosalie Hale's background in Twilight: Eclipse, both book and movie, for inspiration. :)**


	8. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

"Are you sure you want this?" Dan asked with uncertainty as he broke apart and unbuttoned his shirt, right after having his sweater removed. Everything was a haze for him; it happened so fast, but he shouldn't be surprised...or maybe he was. He didn't know anymore. It became clear to him that his "lonesome" life was coming to an end. He still wasn't sure, though, as much as he wanted it. And it had been forever since he was with a woman. He assumed Celeste had never been with a man before her first love, Roy Hayes, her death and afterwards. _Dan_ was her first mate.

Celeste nodded, unbuttoning her blouse; his breath tightened when he noticed how sheer it was, showing her incredible curves and the outline of her bra. She was making it _too_ easy for him. And willing despite her tragic past. "More than willing," she answered honestly, showing him the tops of her breasts, curved and shining, almost pearlescent. "I've wanted you the moment I saw you."

"Are you sure we're not rushing?" Dan asked, still unsure, but his fingers were still working until he had the shirt all the way opened, exposing his chest. She ran her fingers over the surface of his pectoral muscles and down over his six-pack. He moaned at the chills that produced sizzles in his skin and ignited his nerves up his spine. God, it felt wonderful. The kiss she placed over his heart proved too much.

"I'm sure. Mirela knew she never rushed with her first husband, same with Herbert. She knew what she was doing, so I know what I'm doing here," she promised confidently.

Dan gave a quiet gasp of surprise at the revelation. It was always exciting to take a person's virginity, and he didn't have to worry about hurting her because vampires always healed themselves, even the virgin ones. He laughed to himself at the lame joke. Then she brought his attention back on her, halfway done with getting his jeans off, belt undone, and he saw her shed her jeans and underwear. His heart pounded. She was perfect, much better than the Victoria's Secret models, her sculpted figure toned, her breasts full with the nipples a soft gray-lavender, and her womanhood shaved. Her long champagne golden waves cascaded over her bare shoulders, framing her breasts better than an antique gold picture frame. Dan felt himself grow harder beneath his jeans that he hurried them and his underwear off for her to see him fully.

He couldn't believe this was actually happening; he hadn't had sex for a year, since Francesca died. He felt like he was in high school again, like a teenage boy in a fantasy world with this perfect, inhuman female on him again, kissing him again, one hand running through his hair while the other went down to rest on his shoulder, their naked bodies pressing together at last after four months. His erection pressed against the silken folds at the base of her thighs, hungry for her like a bat thirsting for the nectar of a fruit, and her breasts against his chest, the hardened peaks like pebbles. Celeste purred against his mouth as her tongue sneaked inside and interwined with his; he hummed happily and accepted it, tumbling onto the bed with her. He wrapped his leg around her waist, drawing her in closer so he pressed further against her for more contact, getting nothing molten and hot from her; it dawned on him that because of the lack of living bodily functions, female vampires could not get wet and hot.

 _You won't hurt me if I don't get that way,_ Celeste assured him in his mind.

Nails gently scraped over his arms and back, moving down to both sides of his ass, eliciting an exciting response in his body. Laughing, Dan broke the kiss to look down and laugh again. "You seem to know what you're doing, for a virgin."

"Because Roy and I had chemistry I carried with me into my next life, should I ever decided to mate with a human," she replied.

Shaking his head, Dan lowered his head and kissed her again. He eased himself inside without any trouble. Instead of a cry of sheer pain, he got a hiss of pleasure and a buck of the hips against his. "Oohhhh, yessss, Daniel, that's it..."

He hummed happily as he began to pull out of her and push back in, his hips rocking back and forth without stopping or slowing, but it wasn't too rough either. The long-hidden sexual desire had never left him; he ought to thank life for the long wait after all, as he made their time together worthwhile while the other one remained downstairs with Herbert in the dish.

~o~

Talking to Mirela and catching up included discussion of the formula, which Herbert was more than happy to learn was not at all different from the present - with an addition that included the key to vampire immortality without a thirst for blood. However, in the midst, Herbert saw the mischievous glint in Mirela's eyes and questioned, _"What is it?"_

"Oh, Dan and Celeste finally keeping each other busy, but no need for details," she answered with a smirk. He grunted in disgust at the thought of his friend with a woman - and Mirela's friend of all beings, but at least she was nothing like Meg or Francesca - and looked up when Mirela leaned back gracefully on the stool, not even falling out clumsily like a human would. "First time...reminds me of my husband and myself. After I lost him, I did not remarry much less give myself to anyone else...until you," she told him, catching the faint light in his eyes as he recalled one of the fondest memories of his life, reflecting the light in her own eyes. "You remember our time together?"

Herbert gave a wheeze of a gasp of pleasure, the throb in his head serving as the substitute for male arousal long since gone. _"Every detail as clear as I know the re-agent..."_ He paused then to take a few slow breaths before speaking again.

 _"I knew there was something about you that made my blood burn with intense passion, something too perfect and mysterious...something I wanted for so long. You remember the way you touched me?"_ His lips managed as far a weak smile as he could manage, bringing a small touch of heat to his own cheeks.

"If you're talking about when I told you what I really was, and how my touch on your lips made you shiver with icy arousal..." She grinned at him. "You never said it, but you loved it when I did all that. And how sweet and afraid you were, wanting my body against yours, and that four months had been enough for us to take it in your room..."

His jaw was slightly dropped opened, saying nothing for the moment. _"So good, having your body against mine then, and after that, my room...ahhh, I wish it never ended when Gruber died only weeks later, that it was just the two of us...forever...we had something special...you were my first..."_

Mirela nodded sadly, her posture rigid. "And you brought me back to life; I never thought I'd enjoy the pleasures of the flesh again."

Herbert let out a low whistle through his windpipe. _"I was a virgin, never once interested in women...but you...you were so magical, I knew there would be another like you. I remember feeling what I don't recall ever feeling before in my life, and how we kissed, my body craving more and more from you...your lips and hands touching every part of my body that had never been unraveled to another, not even myself..."_

She moaned when she remembered her body joining with his, vibrating with pleasure even without bodily heat of her own or fluid help, her lover gasping and almost crying beneath her enough for her to kiss him soothingly _..._ "I loved your body when we took our clothes off before each other's eyes for the first time...it was beautiful, nothing too masculine, but perfect..."

Herbert gasped and moaned, his words suddenly nonsensical to his own ears, but she understood that he was extremely overwhelmed about his body that he never regarded so special before...mingled with heartbreak and devastation that he no longer had it for her to ravish with her mouth, hands, and her own body joining with it. _"I wish we could start it now...join together the way we did..."_

She nodded and stood up from the chair, walking over to him and kissing his forehead. "We will soon enough, when we get you a new body...then we'll truly be together as we were before." He closed his eyes at the contact, fantasizing that day which still seemed too far away even after a whole year of living his life in a dish and injected with his own re-agent once a month.

But no longer, not that much longer...

~o~

Mirela's room was white like Celeste's, albeit different with the angular white table beneath the window devoid of plant life, and the whole wall before the bed covered with rows upon rows of books - everything from medical and surgical to the greatest literary classics and some romance novels in various time periods - the only other thing popping out was her bedspread, which was teal and black woven with exotic swirls of gray and teal bordered by solid black. As quoted before, vampires did not sleep, so she indulged herself in music, art and literature while Celeste would often borrow from her collection or indulge herself on the Internet.

It was also in this room she spent remembering all the good times she had with Herbert...before it came to that terrible day they were parted not in the same manner, but enough to break her heart as well as his.

~o~

 _She'd been at the house catching up on school work and the laboratory when she sensed it all: Dr. Gruber's aura vanished and replaced with a tremendous pain no different than when Vlad's had less than a century ago. He was dead. Mirela collapsed, falling forward onto the table and howling at the loss of another father figure since Haeckel - and another important man in her life. Hans Gruber had been more than a mentor, setting her and Herbert up together and teaching her more than Dr. Haeckel had done. Stretching further, she detected that he'd died of a heart attack when he and Herbert were staying late in the classroom, not needing her help this once, which had happened a few times before without incident...until now._

 _Why wasn't she there?!_

 _Soon, she heard the phone ringing from all the way downstairs. Pulling herself together and rising, closing her notebook and the textbook beside her, she sped upstairs in time and answered it. "Hello?"_

 _"Miss Vale?"_

 _"Dr. Scharer." The dean of the medical school was calling her? Why on earth would he be calling her? "To what do I owe you?" she asked. She and the dean were always on cool terms, perhaps because of the fact that he was jealous of her utter perfection and brilliance because she was one of the few women today to ever make it into his school with a spotless record. He was one of the few old-fashioned men today. She loathed men like him with a passion; some things never changed._

 _"Dr. Gruber is dead. And Mr. West has been taken into custody."_

 _She stiffened. "Yes?" she asked stiffly._

 _"Well," the man said slowly, as if unsure how to explain the events, "the door had been locked from the inside, and the classroom was a mess. West had an empty needle in his hand, and he'd...done something to your professor, that Gruber went into a frenzy and popped his own eyes out. We believe he killed him, but your...friend claims he 'gave him life'." He paused, scoffing, and Mirela could picture a shake of the head. "I think he's insane. He tampered with your teacher's body, and as of now, he's removed from the school and will be taken to the institute for evaluation."_

 _Mirela's rage exploded. "You bastard! I knew you would go too far."_

 _"I beg your pardon," Scharer returned, "but it seems like you side with a murderer!"_

 _"Herbert is anything but a murderer," she snarled, close to closing her fingers tight around the phone enough to crush it nonexistent. "Perhaps Dr. Gruber suffered a heart attack that none of you looked into it deeper yet, and Herbert tried to save him. But you simpletons never look in deeper waters nowadays. Consider this my transfer out of the country then, and you'll see me gone before the week is over."_

 _She decided Switzerland was no longer the place for her; her life was never free from agony and loss. Every time she got close to someone, she would lose them. If this was how Herbert felt before, she related. And speaking of Herbert, she would pay him a visit as soon as she packed up out of this place which would have been hers alone now that its owner was gone. But her life here was over, and she planned to return back to the one place where someone else was like her and had no intentions of leaving the place where her own life had ended._

 _And that meant leaving the new man she loved behind. Her heart had shattered into millions of pieces once more._

~o~

She'd visited him before the week was over, but their parting was bittersweet. He'd made her promise to get out of the country and continue without him because he had faith in her, and that they might reunite together someday. She felt through their bond - and his heart as she placed her hand on it and allowed him to place his over her unbeating one - that his was breaking when he never wanted it to. Going through a pain he tried so hard to aviod. _We'll reunite one day,_ she repeated through their shared minds, which had broken by the time she left four days later and returned to New Orleans.

Onward to two years later.

Two days gone by. She'd booked the flight to Transylvania which left early tomorrow, and by then, everything they needed was packed. Afterwards, she told the director of the hospital her excuse for taking leave: she had family back in her native country who needed help because of what could be the risk of an epidemic, and she'd been told to take as much time as she needed given how good she had been for the hospital, as much as it pained her to leave.

However, the last person she expected to see was Jon Falcone outside the director's office upon leave. "You were spying on me," she stated coldly, striding past him. As expected, he hurried to catch up.

"Yeah, because I needed to know why you were leaving."

She didn't look at him as she made way for her office. "What business is it to you, Jon? My familial matters are my own and not yours."

"Oh, come on, Mirela. It's been four months and you haven't even gone out with me. You practically shut me out. You shut _everyone_ out but your secretary and Cain, who isn't here to save you now," he told her with a nasty grin. "Remember it started when I asked you when you first came and you said no?"

"Because I'm not interested," Mirela answered flatly, unlocking her door and quickly slipping behind it, glaring at him hotly. "No means no, and I hate men who don't know when to stop." With that, she slammed it in his face with the utmost force.

Mirela knew it would only make him angrier, and it worked. She opened fractions of his mind to her that she could; he was good at blocking much of it out. One of her questions was _who_ had sent him to Arkham, but that information was confidential. Good mental blocks. And that wasn't all she detected from his mind.

He knew she was going to Romania for more than just family matters. That was the plan, and nobody would miss him but whoever sent him. It was best not to take it lightly and not assume his employer - or employers - wouldn't catch on. He was likely to report and say where he was going. Whoever sent him in knew about her, so they had to know _where_ she was going exactly, but it was unlikely they would act quickly and launch the attack so soon, be so rash. Unlikely they would reveal themselves so soon.

She liked the idea of a surprise, but at the same time, it was dangerous. If something happened to Celeste, to Daniel, and most of all to _Herbert_ , then everyone was in jeopardy. Which meant they had to act fast once they got to her old hideout near the river at the bottom of the mountains.

Sitting down, she expected her first patient coming in, the latest case of a teenage pregnancy. It made her sick that such young life would be so reckless enough to indulge in pleasure without protection. Even worse was the fact of an abortion, a killing of life growing inside the woman's body. Mirela never had intentions of being a mother, but it still enraged her that her side of the species would have it in her to abuse her own body and bring agony upon herself.

Her phone rang as soon as her patient left. "Dr. Vale," she answered.

 _"Just checking in because the man himself confronted me."_

She scoffed. "Of course, Daniel. He's catching on; sad fact is I can't find out who sent him. Confidential, and damn good mental blocks."

 _"If he's onto us, then we have to get going soon."_

"My words," she agreed. "You have Herbert ready for the long travel?" He was being placed in a duffel bag for the long travel; he was in for hours of torture without bloodflow, and she just prayed that he would be able to keep quiet before they touched down.

 _"Yeah, but he's in for a long flight with nothing else to do."_ Dan meant it as a joke but didn't actually think it was funny. Neither did Mirela.


	9. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

While going through baggage claim, Mirela was relieved, once they were all alone in their rental car, her in the driver's seat with no escort, that Herbert's head survived the flight. He was quiet the whole time, but it irritated him to no end; was his brain starting to dry out or what? Celeste and Daniel sat in the back, and Herbert's head in the bag in the front. The zip-up top was opened for him to have fresh air.

He had been watching her the whole time she was driving them through the wilderness of Transylvania, hearing her and the other two in the back chat about different things that weren't related to what would happen while they were here. Things he wasn't actually interested in, but he closed his eyes and listened to her singing to various New Age songs on the radio that lifted the soul and captured the heart, making a noise of pleasure every now and then. Even Celeste and Dan joined in the singing.

And then they arrived at their destination.

"Are you sure this is the right place?" Dan questioned, looking at the up-to-date, stone-and-wood structure before them, standing warm amid the falling snow around them. The sun barely peeked out from the gray clouds to give a reflection of light off the glass windows and doors.

Mirela nodded as she carried the box with both arms, letting Celeste lock the car and Dan carry the bags and equipment for them; they packed light in terms of regular supplies for the short trip. "It's been modernized, yes, but this is the place. I doubt anyone would rent anytime soon once we've cleared out." She found herself looking past it, beyond the crystalline collection of trees, to where the great mountains lay. Where Castle Dracula still stood without a doubt. "Last time I checked."

"And you haven't been here since you fled the country."

"Correct."

Celeste did the honors of opening the front door for them; Dan grunted as he hauled the numerous bags through the door, allowing her to take a couple to save his strength at last. He dropped them to catch his breath and collapse on the white of the nearest sofa he could find. It was before the television, and next to the seat itself was a long table surface with shelves of CDs, books and videos, and one opened for either side to show a few hand blown glass vases for pops of color. Mirela walked over there and placed the duffel on top, taking Herbert's head gently out as well as his dish, setting him on the surface and guiding him to his new surroundings. She let him look around, eyes flickering about and then squeezing shut due to the overwhelming light.

 _"...too bright,"_ he ground out. _"I'm going blind."_

Dan laughed again. " _You_ , going blind? That's a first." He exclaimed in surprise when Celeste swatted him at the back of the head for Mirela, who smirked with her head turned away.

"Daniel, if you don't have anything nice to say, don't say a word at all." She was in the middle of removing her long beige suede coat to show a fantasy floral blouse and her favorite jeans. He looked up at her, jaw slack with silent protest; she kept him silent with the look. Mirela shook her head as she picked Herbert back up and carried him under one arm, the empty bag in the other and setting it down beside Dan.

"Here, now that he no longer needs it," was all she said and all she would ever say to him until the specimen arrived for their time to work. The basement was spotless when she found it, the direction the same as before if the architecture expanded and cleansed in palette. The shelves, however, and such were covered with plastic to prevent air bacteria and dust from overtaking. The large table for the setup of the glassware and tubes was present, and she would waste no time in getting to work right away. She knew she wouldn't need Daniel for awhile, thinking Celeste would keep him busy until the time came.

And a matter of time before Falcone would catch up to her. She needed to hurry.

She had put Herbert's dish on the counter for the sink. Her coat was still on, but it didn't bother her; body temperature was never an issue for her anyways. Leaving Herbert for the briefest moment given the lightning speed she harbored, she returned with the bags of equipment, carefully wrapped and unwrapped for the work to begin. She would begin the batch tonight and keep it stowed for the time soon to come.

The whole time she prepared the setup with help from Herbert, she felt the sizzle of passion through her senses, though not her own. Dan and Celeste were at it upstairs; from her vision, blocking out the couple themselves, she noticed that they were in a unique room that could have been her own, though too late, because it beautifully complemented with crystals, lacquered with black in the furnishings and a few neutral tones. She scoffed; of course, they had their own first night moment; she would get hers soon enough, but if not tonight, then tomorrow night. Falcone would not keep her waiting.

"Done," she announced, gesturing to the grand display before Herbert's eyes. "Now all we need to do is get the formula going." She grinned. "Ready?"

He returned the smile feebly. _"Need you ask, Mirela?"_

"Of course not."

~o~

Why had he been thinking he had nothing else to live for all this time but watch over Herbert's head, even spend his life looking for a body for his friend and meeting so many dead ends? Dan wondered this as he stared down into the eyes of the beautiful goddess beneath him. His body felt alive, refreshed and energized... _reborn_. Celeste, naked as he was beneath him, surrounded by immaculate architecture and the heatwave of his body searing sweetly with her ice-cold one and the temperature of winter outdoors, though blocked by the raised temperature of the AC - what was wrong with him all this time?

He had been angry at Herbert for everything he'd done, yet he'd been the only friend he'd had, and the only living person he had since he lost Meg. The real reason he hadn't found another girl in his life was his fear of losing her. Like Meg. Like Francesca. Celeste heard his thoughts and gave a soft smile, raising her hand to brush along his chin.

"Life is too precious to be wasted," she told him gently. "Meg was close to your heart, I know, but losing her shouldn't mean the end of your life, or Herbert's. Instead, you should embrace the life you have left and use it to do something worthwhile, instead of being locked up and alone." A kiss on his lips. "So don't spend your life building a wall between yourself and reality, or else you'll find yourself turning into what you hate the most."

This was the first time he felt like crying. He couldn't remember crying since he kissed Meg's cold, dead lips for the last time after failing to save her life. Dan lowered his head to the swells of her breasts, unable to respond and release breathless sobs against her. She shushed him gently and massaged his scalp, holding him close with her other arm. They remained that way until she announced she was going hunting.

Laughing, Dan laid back and watched as she redressed, checking out her lovely ass before it was covered, much to his disappointment. "What, you didn't bring any of those blood bags with you?"

"Better to save them for home," Celeste answered, tugging her blouse over head. "Wolves of the season are like...you could say, in human perspective, hot chocolate inside a warm log cabin, on the coldest of winter nights." The soft drawl was enough to ignite the engine. "Hopefully I won't be gone long, just grab enough for myself and Mirela, take the blood and leave the remains." She winked. "Being a doctor yourself means it wouldn't bother you, _oui?_ "

He would be lying if he said it _did_ offend him; an animal was better than a human meal. "Have fun."

She was gone in a flash. Dan decided he needed a shower to rejuvenate his body and mind before she returned. The adjacent bathroom broke the barrier between the outdoors and indoor space, neutral, natural stone from the floor to the ceiling to create an airy appeal. The shower space that provided privacy from the opened window to show the mountains beyond was the same wood that matched the rest of the house beyond this point gave him the greatest wave of relaxation he had ever felt. He considered staying in here until Celeste returned, where she wouldn't be able to resist the sight of him.

~o~

By the time Mirela was done making more than enough batches, she safely stored them into the refrigerator. She sensed Falcone was near, and was more than ready.

However, unexpectedly, she didn't detect Celeste's waves anywhere near or in the house. Which meant she had gone out hunting without her, bring some blood back. Mirela was irritated that she'd gone without her, but it had been necessary. She had been busy working on the re-agent with Herbert's guidance, and now she was gathering the surgical tools and making sure they were in perfect condition. She finally had enough of her coat; she removed it to show her bared arms, tank top and swirling sage skirt reaching her ankles to his eyes, hanging it on the rack.

"Not much longer, darling," she told him when she saw his eyes closed, lips parted in utter bliss; he was impatient once more, but they were too far down this road to go back now. Now in her hands was a metal rod she would use to stick through Herbert's spine into Falcone's body. The process might appear simple, but it was actually more delicate than anyone else would think. She put down the rod and turned back to Herbert's head in the dish.

She pressed a kiss to his forehead for assurance; he inhaled, then exhaled the smell of her, the whistling of his windpipe soft and gentle. _"Oh...Mirela, bless you."_

"Then we'll continue what you should have finished a long time ago, I promise you," she whispered lovingly.

But then her brain began to throb. Her telepathic senses were hurting, which could mean only one thing: _he's here._ She drew back, moaning and rubbing her head. "Oh, dear God..."

 _"Mirela?"_

"He's here," she told him, leaving him where he was and hurrying up the stairs to the floor, locking the door behind her swiftly and pressing her back against it for a moment, scanning her surroundings, detecting nothing. But Mirela would not go down without getting the man she lured here. And he wouldn't leave until she was dead and dust for whoever he was working for.

"You really don't care about covering your tracks, do you, Mirela?"

She whirled around, hair and skirt swirling, and found herself face to face with her enemy. Mirela smiled wryly. "You know who I am. Should I be surprised that you do, Jon?" She stared at the crossbow in his hands, laughing to herself as she recalled a certain insipid female who dared make the mistake of not acting right away and paying the price for her own life.

"Oh, my Master filled me in on it all," he answered. Gone was the infuriating charm of a man in her office, replaced by a resentful predator ready to kill the thing he hated most. "He's been fascinated with you ever since a certain life-changing night for you so many centuries ago."

Only _one_ life-changing night she could think of, and that was - "The night Vlad, my beloved mate, was butchered. How would you know of that? Unless your Master..." She held onto her defenses, stood her ground, but even that didn't stop the shocking, agonizing pain that began to course through her dead veins, and the mental blocks were being taken away, voluntarily for her to see. "Oh, dear God, your Master..."

"That's right, sweet Mirela." Jon smirked. "He's none other than the man behind the story the whole world knows as _Dracula_. The same man who ripped your beloved from your arms that damnable night."

~o~

 _The woods are said to be your territory of freedom, where you run and hide, do whatever you want, far from the eyes of civilization's watchful eyes. Now Mirela ran through the trees, naked as the day she had been born a human, unashamed, uncaring for any other thing besides the fact that her cherished mate was gone from her life forever. Pausing behind a tree, she sat down at the base and brought her knees to her chest, taking a few breathless breaths out of pure habit as she glared blankly at the starless sky._

 _She shouldn't be having these thoughts_ \- _long ago she abandoned such unwanted thoughts_ \- _but had all of this been a mistake? Had she really sacrificed her mortality for an everlasting life of blood and death, all for nothing? She'd gone and let her heart get the best of her...and let it be destroyed._

 _Her heart beat no more, but that did not mean it did not_ feel. _Vlad would not have wanted her to give up. He would have wanted her to go on. He had taught her that things would always get worse before they got better. Perhaps someday there would be light again...no, and no more men; no mortal man would love her without cringing and attempting to kill her..._

 _There was a crack of twigs behind her. Someone was here. She detected a familiar aura, and it was not pleasant. Hissing with vengeance, she jumped out of her hiding place, showing all her body to the attacker..._

 _...and found herself face-to-face with the man who took her Vlad's life._

 _"You knew I was here," she stated hotly, not lowering her defenses at the crossbow wielded at her._

 _The man laughed, throwing his hood back. "Of course I did, Mirela." The thing she noticed about his accent was the fact that he was_ not _from around here. He was Irish, and they said the Irish were wild barbarians. Truer words had never been spoken._

 _Should she be surprised, now that either he was going to kill her now, or simply share it to the whole village and let them come after her? Or let Ioana hunt her and finish her off herself? "What now, demon? Are you going to -?"_

 _"Oh, no. Not kill you, and I most certainly will not tell the village. I'll let them find you eventually. I only came to give you a...shall we say, heads up?" He smiled, that beard twitching insufferably. Mirela fumed._

 _"Heads up? For what?"_

 _"Not only do I take down what humanity has feared and loathed for centuries, it being in my bloodline and everything, but I am a writer. I write stories for the world, give them hope and I am always looking for..." He lowered the weapon. "...inspiration. Your tragic love story's ending has given it to me."_

 _Mirela loosened her rigid movements, but her anger was not. No, it was RAGE. This man_ \- _this BEAST_ \- _had taken her husband not only because it was his duty for mankind, but also for his own selfish means of a_ STORY?! _"You mean to exploit my Vlad's life by twisting the facts around, label him a villain in the eyes of the flesh-bloods who spit upon us, for your own ends?"_

 _"Oh yes; everyone knows the story of Vlad the Impaler himself. Such a bloodthirsty fiend they said he was, though never proven directly. The world will be sent into unbridled horror, and I can see how many people will have their own views on the last member of the Draculs." His eyes glittered. "You, however, the poor widow, will never be known. Unless you wish to stand by and be discovered, and eliminated on sight."_

 _She couldn't get anything from his mind, only finding blocks. Mental blocks were a rare gift, unless the person possessed the strength to conceive them as superweapons against the undead like her. "Then I shall see you again someday if not sooner," she hissed, turning and taking off in the opposite direction. Somehow she doubted she would see him again, whoever the man was, yet she knew he was telling the truth that the story which would one day become_ Dracula _would be his true name; all this much she detected was that his name was Abraham Stoker, of Dublin, Ireland. He kept his promise that they would not see each other again anytime soon._

 _Mirela continued her journey until she spotted a structure in the distance. It was an old cottage, with a light inside, though she didn't detect any sign of movement. Stretching her senses, she saw a life-form, though very much extinguished. It gave her the opportunity to see if she could find some clothes and perhaps stay a while before she could plot her way to escape the country and go somewhere else, for sanctuary._

 _There wasn't much, besides a doorway leading into the kitchen, and another into a bedroom; the one she found herself currently in was the main sitting room, with a carved rocking chair and a knitting kit beside it. No animals were about for her to feed at the present, not that she was hungry anyways, but she proceeded right into the bedroom to where she saw who the being was._

 _The old woman was nobody she knew in particular, but it was sad to see that she had died peacefully and alone. Mirela did not see anything around the house that told her the woman had family or relatives in the village; she lived alone. Her heart broke to know that; she would have to bury her then, do the humble honors. And at least she had a place to stay and mull her next plans for awhile. Finding an old dress and shawl, she wrapped the poor woman's body up in blankets she found and took her outside, shovel in hand, ready to put her in the ground and join whatever loved ones she had in the next life._

 _As she did, Mirela sang a soft, wordless tune to the heavens for the one she lost on this very night, promising him she would never give up, that she would go on living no matter what._

~o~

In a previous life, Bram Stoker, as he was known best to all, was a business manager for the world-famous Lyceum Theater in London, his most famous novel _Dracula_ released to the world on the twenty-sixth of May in 1897. Others like him in that same period also wrote many tales which mythical creatures terrorized England, but Stoker himself had seven years of exploration of the vampire mythos, but the laughable cause of his ideas for his epic adventure story came from a strange combination of mayo and crab; how many would believe that foolishness?

The image of Dracula himself had been inspired by a colleague of Stoker's - the regal and aristocratic version everyone knew best - which would later become the sexpot image for young women over the globe. In terms of the title of the tale, it was originally _The Dead Un-Dead_ before being changed to simply _The Un-Dead,_ and later Stoker "became intrigued by the name 'Dracula'" after supposedly indulging in _Account of the Principalities of Wallachia and Moldavia with Political Observations Relative to Them,_ by William Wilkinson in1820 - just six years before Mirela Vãduva's human birth. Everyone familiar with the story knew the origins of the meaning of the name Dracula.

The very first film adaptation was _Nosferatu,_ released in 1922, although it had been unauthorized due to difficulty obtaining the film rights, and Stoker's family tried to have it destroyed for good. To this day it remained ever as one of the most popular versions.

Now Mirela Vale stood before Jon Falcone, the other doctor from her office in Arkham, whom she knew had been a hunter all along and who also claimed he was working for her longtime, long-hidden enemy. But _how_ could he be alive after all these years? Records said he died due to a number of strokes, others overwork. The body had been cremated, and the urn put on display at the Golders Green Crematorium in London. The rest of his family had been made into ashes as well.

"Just how is your Master alive?" Mirela asked calmly, keeping her cool for the moment, though the rage festered in her after dwelling back to the aftermath of her husband's death and the disgrace of exploitation of his family in the name of entertainment and fear. "His body was cremated after death. The records say it all."

Falcone scoffed and shook his head. "Damn woman fool," he sneered, "thought you would have used what was left of your living brains." The audacity to insult her intelligence forced her temper to explode with the last straw, but she held it in for a little while longer. "Of course, Stoker was known to suffer strokes and keep himself busy for too much of the time, but I assure you, he's very much alive."

"But there was a body..."

"A decoy. It was none other than Seamus Stoker, his poor younger brother whom he was never quite fond of." He spoke as if it were matter-of-fact, the smile matching it all, and it sickened her. "Poor fool was so unfortunate, much more than his more known older brother, so unlucky all the time up to his untimely demise."

"He killed an innocent man to cover up his own death," Mirela spat. She looked over his shoulder in time to see Dan appear, peeking his head around the corner and just watching them. And he didn't come unarmed; he had a pipe that he somehow found somewhere around the house, not the basement, given she'd been down there alone during the time. "I've waited all these years to see him again," she continued, knowing that if she distracted him, also knowing he wouldn't lower his weapon, he would never know what hit him. "All this time I thought he was dead. But you never answered my question: _how is Stoker alive?_ "

"Oh, that is something that should be obvious." She now had the _slightest_ idea, but now wasn't the time since the more important matter was at hand. "But that's something you shouldn't worry about, since he knows your plan to bring your lover back in the most abominable way." He began to raise the crossbow again. "This he won't allow, and neither will I." Dan was sneaking up closer behind him, ready to strike and nodding at her to keep him going. "He knows all about the 'late' Dr. West and his perverse pursuits, and he won't let the madman arise from the grave again. Once he goes down...you go with him."

"Not gonna happen." Falcone whipped his head around at the sound of Dan's voice, and it gave Mirela the advantage of ripping the weapon out of his hands and throwing herself down to pin his body to the ground. He struggled in her murderous hold, shouting all the while.

"He'll know what has happened if he notices I never returned! He'll know it was you, and he'll come for you!"

"I'm counting on it!" Mirela nodded for Dan to bring down the pipe onto Jon Falcone's face, smashing part of his face in and killing him instantly. The second blood splattered from the crushed skull face did Dan freeze in his spot as though stunned by a snake bite's after effects. He dropped the pipe to the floor; it clang loud enough to bounce off the soundproof walls and ring the eardrums. His face, blood vivid red and splattered drops and lines across the lower half of his face, was of pure shock and horror. He hadn't done this since...killing Francesca's re-animated form out of defense, so the impact was still the same.

"God, what did I do...?" he whispered, backing away.

Mirela couldn't let him ride on a guilt-trip now, so moving around and taking Falcone's body by the underarms, she began to drag him with all her unlimited strength to the basement door. "Snap out of it and get the door for me!" When Dan still didn't move, still looking dazed and horrified, almost paralyzed, Mirela roared at the top of her lungs which finally did the trick. "MOVE!"

Dan burst to life and scurried for the door, unlocking it for her and getting the feet for her. "It's time, Herbert!" she called down the stairs, unable to delay the moment any longer. Her heart was throbbing even though no veins pumped blood any longer. "We have your new body."

 **I did my homework once more on the background of Bram Stoker, the creator of "Dracula". :) Everything about him is true, as well as the fact that his son's ashes were placed with his, and his wife's scattered at the Gardens of Rest. The movie "Nosferatu" sure suffered a lot and would have never existed if a few copies weren't saved. Stuart Gordon (director of Re-Animator) said he even saw the movie and considers it one of the greatest silent films ever made.**

 **Up next: Herbert gets back on his feet. :D**


	10. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

He had no idea how long Mirela would be gone upstairs, but he tried his hardest not to think about the worst: the man-hunter killing his Mirela. She survived the night her first husband died, so it was guaranteed she would this time. Herbert could hear the commotion upstairs, then the door to the lab was unlocked and opened, and Mirela dragging _the body_ down the stairs - and Dan was helping her. His eyes widened into softballs, wheezing with furious excitement, his cords itching.

At last. After a year of being in this dish...endless months of slowly dying of anger, pain and hatred, his re-agent keeping him alive and sustained but being only short-lived...Herbert's life as a disembodied head would soon be at an end. He would be reunited with Mirela, and no more Daniel to aid him in conquering death. He had enough of his protests.

Herbert watched in silence as the woman he loved and former assistant hauled the corpse onto the table, still dressed in winter garb, but even though the clothing hid the body structure from view, he could see the man had a lean build, only mildly larger than his own original thin frame. Looking at his face, hair and everything, he saw a near exact resemblance to his own. Perfect. He let his jaw slacken with pleasure and exhale.

 _"It's perfect."_

Mirela smiled at him. "I can't wait to have you _that_ way again," she said suggestively, earning a mild look of disapproval from Dan which she ignored, but Herbert whistled; he wasn't sure if he would be able to love her physically once he started walking on his feet again. Faint medical experience recalled rest before any physical activity, but he would happily give up enough energy for her just for one moment and collapse into a peaceful sleep he'd long been deprived of.

"You should leave now, Dan. Wait for Celeste, rest after the flight, anything."

He stared at her in disbelief. "What, you don't need me anymore?"

"You've done enough of this to last a lifetime," she said. "This is something I can do on my own; I saved two people this way, and they made it out into the world alive. You know I'm a skilled surgeon, and a rod from the skull to the spine is going to be painful enough."

Dan stared at her for another moment before leaving just like that. She said nothing more as she began to get the MRI machine out to take X-rays of his brain and the various other equipment needed, plus all the surgical tools for it was going to leave quite the mess on the floor in the most macabre manner compared to past experiments by Dr. Mirela Vale that she could ever recall.

And all of this for her one true love, waiting patiently just for her, only a little while longer compared to the long, lonely years of a hellish existence.

Luck had favored her when she discovered that both Herbert and Jon had the same blood type, and extremely rare: O negative. By now the process was finished. Mirela stood over the body with the glowing green needle in hand; now for a revelation: the re-agent was enhanced with lizard regenerative substances as well as a small amount of her own venom. The clothing had been removed, the whole body covered with a sheer sheet. The neck was wrapped in bandages; muscles and nerves were skillfully sutured and connected, the fleshy exterior to take time to heal and perhaps leave a scar, which was common. But the re-agent soaking the skin would prevent that.

He was gasping as though trying to get precious air back into his lungs. She didn't have any air in her body to give him; reaching behind her, Mirela grabbed the oxygen mask and placed it over his mouth without strapping it behind his head. He took three breaths until finally he calmed down. Blinking about three times, he calmed down and nodded for her to take the mask off.

"Mirela..."

"YES!" She happily, moved around all four corners, starting at the right foot then around, ending where she was before and helping him sit up. His skin was warm beneath her hands, pulsating and alive and well. She felt like crying without tearshed as she looked up at him. Herbert looked down at himself, his face filled with wonder, joy, and various other emotions as he beheld the sight of his new body, the body he lusted for after months of being a disembodied head in a dish.

Herbert West had returned.

~o~

Something wet rolled down his cheeks while he looked down at the sight before him - well, _below_ him, but it was the same thing to him: the light but clearly visible pectoral muscles, inner curved stomach, and a pair of long arms sporting enough muscle to give him limited strength. He still felt...strange, like he was having an out-of-body experience; his hands were still tingling, and so were his feet, attached to lean, colt-like legs. He was naked on the table, but overall, he had a _whole body._ Mirela stood next to him, watching him with the same reaction that he was clearly giving her.

Herbert looked down at _his hands_ \- he had HANDS again! Overwhelmed, he felt the moisture on his face become greater and greater. Lifting a hand up, he discovered that they were tears. He was crying; he could finally unleash all of his emotions again. Herbert let out a noise that sounded somewhere between a laugh and a sob. There were no words to do it justice. All those times of longing for the beautiful feeling he had long been deprived of. His brain was awashed with life again. Here he was, in another exotic country far from Arkham, and he was a human being again. Right in front of the woman he loved, who gave him what had been taken from him long ago.

"You're alive, my love," she said in Romanian. He didn't speak her language, but he understood by her soothing tone of voice. She helped him stand on both feet; his legs wobbled beneath him, but she helped him stand.

He looked around himself. Mirela could tell that he was slowly forgetting what it had been like to be a severed head all this time. Her body sizzled at the sight of him; that body he now had, it wasn't the one she killed. It was _Herbert_. HER Herbert, the man who was like she: dead _and_ alive at the same time, going to live forever.

Tonight they would begin one main part of their "forever".

She wrapped both her arms around his bare shoulders and kissed him, long and passionate. Herbert moaned in delight, securing his own around her waist and drawing her in closer. At long last, once more damning Francesca and the freaks for depriving him of her, for everything, but once Mirela's tongue wrapped around his and explored his mouth, he immediately forgot about rage and hatred, instead returning the favor. His body was growing hotter, and harder, a feeling he had fantasized about since their parting and lost since...that horrible night. He broke the kiss gently and looked down at her. Her eyes were glazed but not liquidized. He wanted her now, and she wanted him to.

"Come to bed," she whispered, like she did the first time, taking both his hands and leading him upstairs. Dan had to be asleep by now, given how late it seemed, so Herbert wasn't ashamed about his nakedness around the house, not even when they got to Mirela's room, with the glass walls opened to nature and the ethereal snowy landscape outside, glittering under the moonlit sky. He paid attention mostly to Mirela, seeing her remove the tank and skirt she wore the whole time she operated and brought him back, revealing a black lace set with a sultry gate design in the bands around her hips. Herbert's erection twitched at the sight of her.

She was on him again, delaying the removal of the rest of her clothes any further, only heating him up by kissing him languidly again; her nails scraped down his back without acually leaving any marks. Tingles ran up his spine, and Herbert shivered and moaned. "Ohh, Mirela..." he moaned, his voice shuddering when his body was touched for the first time; the feeling wasn't strange, it was _WONDERFUL._ He was ready to claim her once again. "Mirela, please. Make me happy again."

"Patience." She had shoved her panties down her legs and kicked them off deftly. Just her bra and where he would enter her was the most magical sight he'd ever seen. "All good things must take time."

Herbert smiled. He reached behind her and unhooked her bra, letting it join its companions. His heart picked up as he looked her over, thrilled to his core. He leaned down and kissed the top curves before journeying downwards. Mirela moaned and ran her fingers thought his hair; her fingers massaging his scalp drove him to a frenzy and nearly biting her nipples, now hard like rock pebbles. "Herbert," she murmured, "let me...make love to you." He stopped what he was doing and looked up at her with a smirk twisting his mouth.

"Why you over me again?"

"Because you were a virgin the first time in Switzerland." She returned the naughty smile. "Now it's my turn again with your new body, in _my_ bed."

Ahh, God the way she was seducing him without even trying to be seductive and such a minx. He moaned when her hand cupped his cock, which was _exactly_ the same size; if there was a God, then he silently thanked Him for this body satisfying him and making up for the one cruelly ripped from him. Mirela then knelt down and pressed a kiss to the head of his member. He moaned again; the sensation was delightful. But he stopped her right after her tongue licked all the way around his sex and then back to the top.

"No, I don't want to come," he managed. "I want to be inside you."

They tumbled onto the bed together, tangling in the silk and cashmere blankets, Herbert first onto his back. Mirela slowly lowered herself onto him and started do what she began that night, with kissing his neck first, adding in that she nibbled his throbbing jugular vein to excite him more. Then she began to kiss down his body, licking his nipples instead of pausing to suck, then nuzzling his navel before dipping her head to his groin. Her nose inhaled and nuzzled the dark curls above his manhood before taking one last lick of the head. He writhed beneath her; her teasing of him was driving him insane. Would she just get on with it already? He'd waited FOREVER for this night!

Mirela heard his thoughts and moved back up, positioning herself over his erect member, sliding onto him without any trouble. "Ohhhh, yessss," Herbert hissed, the smooth tightness taking him in and rushing over him like the incoming snowfall outside. Her womanhood welcomed him hungrily, sliding over and back, the experience beautiful as he remembered. His body was dripping beads of sweat; he felt like the man he was, being loved by this woman who had been worth the long wait, as Gruber once told him that "true love is worth the time and patience".

Herbert gave a small, breathless moan as she thrusted onto him, the intense pleasure building up with each passing moment. He didn't want it to end so soon, but he was getting tired, since he'd only been recovering from a long medical procedure. Mirela hissed as she hit home run, and they climaxed together; she fell into his arms after his hot seed entered her without trouble.

He was lying on his back, panting and catching his break while she lifted her head and looked at his face, smiling. "Was it worth the wait?"

"Need you ask?" he returned with a lazy smile, brushing her hair out of her face.

She kissed him tenderly. "I love you, Herbert."

No one besides her had _ever_ told him those three beautiful words that were often taken for granted, not when he was a boy, and not even when he grew into a man. Herbert felt the emotion arise again; his ice-princess dignity was beginning to regain its form on its own, but he was with the one woman he could show his feelings to, so he shoved it down for the night. "And I..." Herbert wasn't sure why he couldn't tell her those simple words. "...love you, Mirela," he gasped out.

She laughed softly, reaching to pull the covers around him to prevent the chill. "Stay with me," he pleaded, holding her close. "Until I fall asleep."

"I won't ever leave you again," she promised him. "Not even for another hundred years, or a thousand years and so forth. You're mine forever on."

"Thank you," was all he whispered before he closed his eyes.

~o~

Herbert looked peaceful in his sleep. So young and innocent, like a child. Mirela deliberated this as she watched over him; it was nearing eleven by the time he finally succumbed to stupor, breathing evenly and relaxed. He was beautiful, the memories of the past no longer doing justice.

She sensed the familiar aura of Celeste in the house again. Time to break the news to her. Mirela left Herbert where he was, finding her short black dress she wore hunting back in Boston and going out to find her friend, unloading blood bags and human groceries. Well, they had human men in the house, and they couldn't survive on animal blood; it contained germs for them and contaminated their systems. She found Celeste in the kitchen, still in her coat as she put the food away into the lacquered black refrigerator and freezer, whipping her head around upon sensing her entrance.

Celeste beamed. "It succeeded." It wasn't a question.

"Completely. Falcone won't be missed; he has no loved ones living that I can sense," Mirela answered, moving to help, picking up two whole chickens in both arms. Except for maybe everyone else at work, but Celeste didn't need to hear that spoken. She knew it as much as she.

"The others are here," Celeste reported, taking the paper bags and tossing them into the trash. "They know we're here, but they're waiting for the right time to strike." She sighed. "But when, I don't know yet."

They had to be waiting for their little scout to come back, but maybe once they wait long enough and he doesn't return, then that would be their time to plan attack. Mirela sucked in a breath as she began to ponder new thoughts that threatened to destroy her confidence: that would mean endangering the lives of both Herbert and Daniel. Planning attack meant more hunters than you can count. Stoker would not be stupid. So that could mean, in order to counterattack...

"I ran into Grigore while I was hunting."

"Grigore," Mirela breathed, leaning back against the equally lacquered counter and staring up at the slate ceiling with the black crystal chandelier. Grigore Dragomir, family advisor of the Dracul line before its last heir was butchered by the same man who put out a story that disgraced the real "Dracula". She hadn't seen or heard from him since leaving the country, but he'd been alive all this time since even after Vlad died. And the head of the High Vampire Council, now occupying Castle Dracula unbeknownst to the human world.

"He's been concerned for you," Celeste went on, stating the obvious even though she'd never met the leader of the undead, though her tone suggested nothing negative about the meeting.

"How sweet of Grigore, considering he and I haven't made enough contact in less than a hundred years." Mirela shook her head. "What for?"

Celeste pulled her coat off then and hung it on the rack. "He knows the situation, been keeping tabs on you since your departure."

"And he never made the move to try and talk to me himself," the ebony-haired woman stated flatly, inwardly knowing the man had his reasons.

"But he always knew there would come a day. Anyway, he knows you're here, and he would love to offer protection should the situation get worse," Celeste answered. "He says the castle doors are opened for us whenever we want. It isn't safe to return to Boston yet at the present."

As anticipated, Mirela decided. She let go of the counter and paced the area, trying to think of a way to plan a surprise. "I assume he has his own vast armada ready. Vlad certainly did in times of war."

"Absolutely. And he asked me to deliver you a message," Celeste told her. "He said to tell you that, should you and West ever decide to..you know..." She giggled nervously and shifted from one foot to the other. Mirela returned the smile, knowing what one of her oldest friends was trying to get this one to tell her.

"Elopement. Of course, but I doubt Herbert would ever be ready for that type of commitment."

"Oh, hush." Celeste pushed her hair behind her shoulders. "Daniel will be more than ready to pop the question to me someday soon. Chances are _your_ man will see what he'd missed and have his turn."

~o~

Herbert felt warm when he opened his eyes, blinking at the bright light, though the objects swirling before his vision was blurry. Remembering that he'd taken off his glasses during the night, Herbert reached over to grab them and put them on his eyes, and they flashed into focus, taking in the glass walls opened to show a picturesque, snowy scenery - snow on _trees_. It was the most beautiful sight he'd ever seen; he deliberated this, wrapping the blankets around himself.

Mirela was nowhere in sight. He wondered where she was, only automatically assuming that she'd either gone hunting or was wandering the house somewhere. He still hadn't adjusted to the immaculate, pristine surroundings, yet he couldn't help but admire the view. Mirela had been born before the Gothic era, became an immortal vampire in the Gothic era, now she was living in modern surroundings.

Herbert found himself staring at the foot of the bed, at the clothes Raven had left for him - _his clothes._ White collar shirt, black tieand pants... _she remembered._ He slipped out of the bed and gathered them into his arms, making way for the opened door on the left opposite end of the room, showing a bathroom that looked and felt organic and natural, with soft wooden tones in the floor and shower backdrop. He felt rather filthy, given he hadn't had a bath or shower for a year. Already he was feeling relaxed, even before he stepped into the heated shower, moaning in delightful pleasure as his body received the cleansing he craved for years.

Herbert found himself looking at the whole front of his new body in the tall mirror behind him; his breath was taken away at the sight of what he'd missed. His body structure was perfect, lean and not large as Dan's frame, then down south to where he felt himself tighten down between his legs, but he couldn't bring himself to touch himself, the hardened length surrounded by a groomed bush. The old belief that masturbation was out of the question swam around in his brain, and it should be Mirela to give him pleasure instead of his own hand, and him for her.

~o~

Dan stared down at the opened box, Meg's ring winking up at him, ready to meet a new owner when the other intended never had the chance. Letting go of the past was another hard thing to do, but Celeste was also right: he couldn't spend life wasting it away, waiting for the end to come, both his life and Herbert's. Life was too sacred, so much to do, so much to cherish. Losing people was a part of living, and living was not what he'd been doing. Just waiting.

Perhaps it was also time to stop watching Herbert. He had Mirela now, but if there was any way she could knock some sense into him if Dan couldn't do that himself...

 _She will,_ he heard Celeste through the air. _I know her well enough to know that she'll convince him life is more than work._ That eased his uncertainty by the slightest.

He found her in the kitchen, over the stove and making breakfast, cracking eggs over the pan. The smell made his stomach rumble. But that was not the half of what he saw that turned up the heat in his stomach and radiated every part of his body.

Celeste looked like a deity in a scarlet dress with thin straps and a flirty, swirly, lace-edged skirt. When she turned around upon sensing his presence, he glimpsed a contoured bust and cross-laced bodice. Her shining sunny curls danced over one shoulder, exposing a stud in her ear; sultry, rich red ruby surrounded by a fiery starburst of white diamonds, and a matching pendant resting above the valley between her breasts. A perfect way of saying "I love you" without actually speaking the words. Dan's veins pulsated heat while struggling to find what words to say instead.

"Sometimes words don't do justice," she reminded him, turning back to the stove. Smirking mischievously, Dan walked up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, inhaling both her scent and the food. The last time he remembered was Francesca over her special sauce that night it turned to hell for her; she was in that red dress which added to spicing the night up, then her beautiful body in bed against his...but now that he thought of it, that hadn't been serious. It had been to make up for what he'd lost with Meg. Then she found out his and West's activities and left him, especially after the Bride attacked her and the collapsing crypt. And then Chapham's wife stabbing her through the heart, and her rage at being brought back to life only to tear Herbert's head from his body.

Celeste, however, tolerated it all since she was half dead, half alive herself, a mythical reject of the world. Moving place to place with her friend as he himself had been doing. Now it seemed he would have to do this with her and Mirela from now on. He didn't want to be alone anymore. Which was why...

"I know what you're going to ask me."

Dan grinned, holding her tighter until she asked him to let go so she wouldn't knock the pan over and burn him. She would be able to regenerate, though, but he obeyed. She turned it off, thinking it done enough, and turned all the way around. Her plump pink lips were stuck out in a crooked pout, dark eyes shining. "Well, ask away, Dr. Cain."

"As you wish, Miss Roberts." He reached into his pocket and pulled out the ring she'd worn only once and shortly. "Celeste, I won't deny that I have strong feelings for you, something I haven't felt in a long time. I don't want to waste anymore of my life alone, so will you marry me?"

Her nod was all he needed, and after he placed the ring on her, she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him deep, until the sound of a throat being cleared. They broke apart to see _Herbert_ standing there, mouth twitched in a smirk.


	11. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

Castle Dracula...it had not changed much since she last saw it; it was still alluring and hauntingly beautiful despite the legends and the ghosts that still lingered inside its walls. It was still standing strong against the time of past sieges and providing sanctuary for the residents that resided here after the last heir of the Dracul line's death, and his widow's disappearance. Mirela had traveled all this way on foot through the snow, her long black coat providing protection against the winter's chill, closed over the beaded black velvet halter dress she wore, and her knee-high black boots tight enough to keep snow out but loose to give her comfort.

And for the first time since that morning, her hand actually felt naked without her wedding ring, but it was a half-good kind of naked. She was letting go of the past by a small act like this. She would never fully abandon his memory, just keep what she once treasured most as a memento and reminder in sake of her future.

Being back at this place of her past was bittersweet, walking through the courtyard first as she'd been led all those centuries ago, through the grand, opulent hallways with deity carvings and exquisite medieval tapestries and the likes. The carpeting beneath her feet was still red with gold braiding on the sides and ends. The journey up the spiral staircase was nothing compared to a human traveling on tour in the present day.

~o~

 _"Was it satisfying, my Mirela?" His voice sent shivers of delight down her spine, his lips grazing her bare shoulder without directly biting her. She moaned delightfully and melted into his "warmth", the feeling too beautiful for words. She did not ever recall such bliss in her life. Everyone would be looking for her and him - notably Dr. Cristian Alexandrescu - but it would only be a matter of time before they were pronounced dead, and the search would end. The villagers who worshipped them as their gods of healing would mourn her terribly. He read her mind and placed a kiss on her cheek. "The people will miss their star healers, yes, but I won't keep you locked up forever," he promised her. "However, we must take precautions after this next step."_

 _She slipped out of the bed and walked over to where her new dress was waiting for her. It was elegant ivory brocade with lace trimmings and a billowing satin skirt; the satin sleeves had lace and ribbons. Slipping it on and allowing him to lace up the back_ \- _he was surprisingly skilled at a woman's job_ \- _she shuddered when his fingertips shocked her nerves again. "I'll allow you to be out in the world for however long it takes, but after some years, you must return to my shadow so that they forget about you, without resorting to the discovery of what you really are. I can't have you taken from me."_

 _Mirela bared her neck for him to kiss. All her life had been sacrifice and compromise, but this was a willingness she was ready to do just for him. "I'm ready to spend an eternity with you, being wild and free, go several places with you..."_

~o~

The sight of the three figures in the king's study, which served as the official meeting place and spoke of discipline and regality, was a fusion of long-hidden happiness, neutral enthusiasm, and uncertainty, all based on the individuals Mirela regarded. The first emotion was for the one she was looking for. "Ah, Mirela, my love," Grigore Dragomir enthused, welcoming her with opened arms and holding her close to his chest. "It's been so long."

"Likewise, dear Grigore," she agreed, wrapping her arms around his waist and ignoring the disdainful look from his mate, the woman in sumptuous burgundy brocade and black satin with her dark hair in an elegant updo, regarding Mirela with utter disdain. However, the other male smiled warmly at her. "But I doubt one of your own thinks the same," she said, gently withdrawing.

Grigore laughed and shook his head. "Ah, pay her no mind." He turned around then; Mirela saw his face only halfway, but his reprimanding voice was obvious enough. "Daciana, if you would please be on your best behavior for our guest."

She scoffed. "Guest? Uninvited, in my book, if you ask me, _dear_ ," she said sarcastically, poisonously glowering at Mirela, who returned it without hesitation. Daciana Dragomir had never been gracious towards guests, nor was she a social person much like Herbert, but she was considered more hostile than the man Mirela loved with every fiber of her being.

" _I_ invited her, thank you very much," Grigore returned smoothly, booking no more discussion, before turning back to Mirela and smiling. "Pardon my wife, dear Mirela. You know how she can be." Daciana hissed furiously at the way her husband humiliated her; she was silenced and restrained by Cezar, the other male who was also Grigore's brother.

"Grigore, it's Mirela Vale now, surely you must be aware," she reminded him gently. "I've changed my name."

He smiled. "No matter who you are, you will always be the one I love like the daughter I'll never have. And I promised these doors were always opened for you and your friends...and loved ones."

"You know about Herbert," Mirela stated, unafraid.

"And Vlad's butcher," he spat, turning away from her and going to sit behind the desk. "Please have a seat, my dear."

"You know I prefer standing." Mirela remained where she was, and then the she-devil herself set her temper off by snapping her thread.

"When my husband asks a visitor to sit, they sit."

She was more than ready to pounce Daciana Dragomir when Cezar stepped in. "Be silent and treat Vlad's widow with respect, Daci." His voice was low, booking no disobedience, as though it were the old days when the woman had no choice but to do as she was told. She seethed at him, her eyes flashing with irritation. Then the leader himself held up both his hands.

"Enough, the both of you."

"All of you..." Mirela didn't come all this way just to hear family drama, but for important business. "...I did not travel all this way on foot in the snow just to hear bickering back and forth." She looked down at the man she regarded as the father figure who served as the one Vlad's father never was since she never knew him, the one her own father pretended to be only to use her. "Celeste told me you would offer us protection, that you know what is happening."

Grigore chuckled and nodded. "And such a delight, your friend was. Yes, indeed I do. I had such high hopes that my Master's widow would find it in her someday to have someone else by her side." He stood from behind the desk once more to walk around so he was by her side again. "It pains me greatly to know that you lived a long, lonely life since your husband, and this one so harshly ripped from you."

He looked deep into her eyes; she opened herself up to him, trusting him with every fiber of her being. "Dr. Herbert West...I know _everything_ about him. His experiments with the revival of the dead."

"He was trying to conquer death," Mirela answered. "He wanted to do what mortal doctors before him failed to do."

He nodded, now looking somber. "Yet the world is not ready for such miracles, even though it is proof that God is no longer the maker of mankind. Other physicians before him tried to prove it and failed. Look at how Shelley's tale was similarly laughed and frightened upon like yours." She nodded bitterly. Grigore tenderly pulled all of her hair behind her and over the shoulder facing him in a loving gesture. "I'm so proud that you succeeded with bringing your lover back, and I'm impressed with how he so admirably proceeded without stopping in spite of the obstacles that lay before him."

Daciana was once more there. She stood abruptly and strode their way, lip curled. "Grigore, that man is a destructive force of man. He caused the deaths of many and brought back those who tried to stop him all in the name of 'scientific curiosity'!"

Her husband's head whipped around; sometimes Mirela wondered how and _why_ he was ever fixated on such a hot-tempered woman. "Dare you speak of my Herbert that way again, you pompous..."

"Ladies, please. Daciana, it would be wise if you left this room alone, for the sake of Mirela," Grigore ordered, earning a long-lasting, heated glare from his wife even after she left the study. He then looked down at Mirela and smiled.

"My dear, our spies have detected that Stoker's men are hiding and waiting for you, your friends and your lover this very moment. They have a force waiting for attack, but it isn't vast. But we can't take the chances of them striking us off-guard. I would advise taking a handful of our own people with you as escorts and protection. Can I trust you not to refuse and put you and your loved ones at risk?"

She wasn't some fairytale princess or damsel-in-distress in need of help, but that did not mean she would act rash and refuse, claiming she was strong enough to withstand danger herself. "I'll get them out as soon as possible. I'm more than ready to destroy the man who ruined my life," she answered, her voice lower, darker, and richer which made both him and his brother smile.

~o~

Herbert regarded the couple with his mouth twitching in one corner. He'd seen and heard everything: everything from the simple proposal that didn't need much explanation as enough was known, to Dan putting the ring on her finger and the kiss. It made Herbert think of something he had forgotten a long time ago.

"You should have your turn with Mirela," Celeste told him. He jumped; she had to have read his mind, since vampires were known to read minds, one of their common traits. "Ask her to marry you."

He pondered this; he had just begun to get his life back, he needed to get back to work, but marriage wasn't to be rushed into...and then he stopped his thoughts right there. Why was he thinking this? He felt like their relationship was in the right direction. He shouldn't have to worry about losing her again. He ought to think about the next step now. He loved her so much that he should think about the one thing that bound two people together for the rest of their lives.

But he and Mirela did not have the rest of their lives. They had _eternity_.

"Is getting married too much for someone who just got his life back?"

His head shot up at the question. "A life I long craved to have back. Spent a year waiting when my simple assistant took his time while delayed with paranoia that we would be discovered, all the while wishing I could be that happy again."

"Hey, I did the best I could, but it wasn't easy without you to physically help me, and you know it!" Dan returned. "Oh, yeah, I was going to get to that: how does it feel to be back on your feet again?"

"Very fine, thank you." Herbert huffed, genuinely insulted. "Now you ask me that in order to change the subject, pretend I'm not offended?!"

"Gentlemen, enough. No need to fight now. The hard part is over, but we got bigger issues now."

Mirela stood there, coat hung up so show off her beautiful body in the black dress and boots, catching Herbert's breath. Even more when she glared at the group with eyes like blazing coals. "I just returned from dealing with my acting father figure's wife who is bad enough as it is only to come home and hear this. Grigore has advised that we all return to Castle Dracula immediately."

Herbert had no idea who this Grigore was; Mirela heard his confusion. "He was Vlad's family advisor before his death; now he is head of the High Vampire Council. And one of my oldest friends," she added with a smile. "He offered us protection, and we can't take any chances. We have guards outside waiting, so we need to make haste."

Herbert didn't have anything with him other than his minimal wardrobe, and the equipment for the re-agent which he helped bring with Mirela. He suspected this had to do with Bram Stoker, whom he was concocting theories of how he was still alive after all these years. The stories said he'd died from a stroke, others said overwork, and his body was cremated, but when he voiced his thoughts to Mirela while they hauled the belongings out to the carriages waiting for them - old-fashioned compared to modernism, but necessary to avoid suspicion - she revealed what his body donor, Jon Falcone, who had been working for Stoker, had told her.

The body had been Stoker's brother, just a cover-up for his death.

Which begged the question: _how_ did he achieve immortality?

Dan and Celeste sat together across from them, Dan leaning against her chest and staring ahead to the ground at nothing in particular. Herbert sat next to his beloved immortal, holding her hand in both of his, and her other on top of his. "Is this a bad time to ask you something?" she spoke quietly.

He looked at her quizzically. "Of course not."

"Do you _want_ to get married? If we ever get out of here alive?"

Herbert wanted to tell her it _was_ a bad time, but he didn't want to hurt her; she would see through eventually. "Of course I want to marry you. It's just that..." He struggled for the right words to say. "I had spent so many years dedicated to my serum after you left. All those months in a dish and closed off from the rest of the world. It's all too soon for me."

"But we love each other," she pressed gently, hands tightening in his. "Shouldn't that be enough to want you to take this next step with me?"

The couple opposite them watched on, but Herbert focused his attention on his woman and his woman only. Then he looked down and noticed she wasn't wearing her ring from her first marriage. She was ready to move on. Herbert smiled at her and was about to say yes when the carriage was suddenly rocked by a great force from outside, and shouting was heard. Among was this he could make out before his world went dark:

"HUNTERS! We're under attack!"

 **Castle Dracula as a whole was inspired by a real castle in Romania, Peles Castle.**


	12. Chapter 11

**I keep forgetting to mention that the actresses I picked to be our lovely ladies are Megan Fox as Mirela (Mikaela from Michael Bay's "Transformers") and Rosie Huntington-Whitely as Celeste (Carly from "Dark of the Moon", the third in the series).**

Chapter Eleven

They were under attack. Daniel held his breath and onto Celeste as the carriage was rocking with forceful impact. Stoker and his followers had caught up to them. His mind was racing as he tried to think of how to get himself and the people with him out of here. Or if Mirela or Celeste could think of something themselves.

Either way, their vampire escorts outside were probably dead by now, and they had to fend for themselves. Like it had been that horrible night and the second to follow.

Why and how would this be any different?

Celeste, bless her, thought fast for them all as she loosened her hold on him and reached for the opposite carriage door - the other end was getting ready to fall down onto that side - and singularly slapped it with all her might; it shattered into pieces and opened to reveal that they were near enough the edge overlooking a peak, far above the evergreen and snowy landscapes. If they jumped out this way, then chances were that he and an unconscious Herbert wouldn't survive the fall; second thought, the women would jump with them and hold them. Vampires made and survived such flights and falls. But when would their luck ever run out?

"We have to make the jump," Mirela said, moving forward with Herbert's limp arms wrapped as tight as he could around her waist.

Dan looked over at the scenery beneath them. "If we do, we'll -"

"We won't die because we'll hold on tight," she interrupted, "so be prepared."

Sadly, they never had their chance, because the carriage was already toppled over onto the side it was leaning for. Everything stopped altogether, and the survivors were frozen stiff - only in the sense of bodies tense and senses alert for any detection of life outside - and holding onto each other. However, Mirela the bold, was the first to make her move for the broken door, poking her head out and looking around north, south, east and west for signs of the unseen attackers. "No one out there," she announced, lowering herself back into the wreckage. "But that doesn't mean they're not out there."

"I sense them, too," Celeste announced. "They're hiding. Waiting for us."

The girls were out first; Dan stuck his head out, Herbert next - he had just come to, which was a surprising miracle - and both saw them both in crouching tiger mode, keeping an eye and their senses out for the hidden attackers. Dan was unsure whether he and Herbert should act, but they stayed where they were. Then Herbert leaned in and whispered to him, "Dan...in case we -"

There was no chance for him to finish, because then his eyes went wide and he fell forward onto Dan and gasped for air. Daniel heard himself exclaim in surprise as he tried looking around for who had done whatever it was, though his gut told him it was a tranquelizer dart.

Celeste's head whipped around then, but before she could react quickly, she, too, was down, snarling as she tried to fight off the sedatives which worked remarkably well on an undead like herself. Dan felt the prick of a needle in his neck, and his world slowly darkened around him. He tried to call out to Mirela, but could not find his voice.

The last thing he saw was her going down to the ground beside her friend, his new betrothed who filled the void in his heart that had been left when Megan died.

~o~

She'd been shot down before, but never with a sedative. Nevertheless, the effects left a haze on her mind. Mirela blinked, clearing her blurred vision to see the face looming over her with a concerned expression. "Grigore," she managed without trouble, happy to see him but at the same time anxious.

"Oh, Mirela, I feared for your safety," he told her, placing his hand on her forehead as a touching gesture only. "Your friend is well, in the room down the hall."

"Celeste..." She breathed a sigh of relief, knowing her friend was still alive. Mirela found herself in the very room Vlad had brought her to on her first arrival as she was dying and transformed her forever. It was both beautiful and strange at the same time. "Any survivors?"

He gave her a grave expression. "I'm afraid none of my men survived. I could sense danger through the air, and we came to your aid as soon as possible."

She frowned. "We?"

"Myself and my brother. Daciana was too willful to come." Mirela snorted; of course the she-devil would refuse. She cared for no one but herself, after all. It was one of the only good exceptions to why the male should be in charge. She leaned back and relaxed for a bit, secured by the thought that Celeste was all right, and...

"Dan...HERBERT!" She bolted up suddenly, ignoring Grigore's cautious touch on her arm and her back; her body regenerated from pain and infliction, so no cautions necessary. "Oh, my God, Grigore, where are they?!" She looked at him frantically. His face remained grave as ever.

"I'm afraid they've been taken, my child."

"And the re-agent?"

"Afraid so."

"Oh, God, no..." Mirela moaned and fell back, despair washing over her. This was all her fault; she was supposed to protect them both, protect the formula...and now they were in the hands of Stoker and his posse. Grigore looked down at her tenderly, though his eyes still bore concern and determination as she was now feeling. Determination to get them all back and kill the man responsible.

"I sent my best spies back out there. They are looking for the hideout as soon as possible, so in the meantime, it's best you and Celeste get ready for this."

But all Mirela's confidence and serenity had faded, thanks to all of this. The man she loved was in the clutches of the man who took the other important man from her life before; the man Celeste loved as passionately was also sharing the same fate. _And_ the re-agent was in the wrong hands. How would they EVER fix this mess now?

Mirela sent a telepathic message to the one her heart shared: _Be brave, my love...I'm coming for you. We're coming for you both. Be strong, Herbert._

~o~

Herbert's brilliant mind could not recall being knocked out with a sedative or tranquilizer. Faintly, he _did_ remember Hill's headless body knocking him out to take the re-agent, his notes and all, but that was the only time he could conjure up from the past. His head felt like lead. His eyesight was blinded that he couldn't see where he was at the present; he did, however, manage to locate his glasses right beside his head. Putting them on, his vision swam back into focus, and Herbert found himself looking up at a jagged ceiling and walls. He was in a cave somewhere in the mountains.

He faintly recalled the voice of Mirela in his head before: _Be brave, my love...I'm coming for you. We're coming for you both. Be strong, Herbert._

He looked over and saw Daniel beside him, unconscious and unceremoniously on his side, back facing Herbert. Wincing, Herbert sat up and reached over to shake his friend on the arm. "Dan...Daniel, wake up."

"Herbert." He smiled slightly when he responded. Dan rolled over onto his back and looked up at the ceiling like Herbert had, then to his side and gazed upon Herbert's face. "Where are we?"

"I believe somewhere in the mountains," he stated. "I faintly recall a message from Mirela before I opened my eyes. She told me she was coming for us."

Dan winced, too, as he sat up. Grunting, he said, "Great. Now that we've been drugged and hidden somewhere in the mountains, I wonder how she would be able to track our exact location."

Herbert wondered that, too, now that he said it. Under mountains or underground would be difficult to track someone's precise location, like technology-wise. "I believe she will find us in time."

" _If_ they don't kill us then," Dan pointed out.

Herbert highly doubted that Stoker, the man who killed Mirela's first husband and disgraced the family story with the one the world knew as _Dracula_ \- as much as _Frankenstein_ was a horrible parallel to his own actions - would kill them both before Mirela arrived. He would have to need them alive...and it was to lure Mirela into a trap. Mirela, not Celeste, and it made Herbert panic. Mirela was _his_ woman, and if that foul creature he had yet to meet ever laid a single hand on her...

"What were you going to say before we were subdued?"

Herbert looked down at his lap when he made the confession. "For only a brief moment - and I do mean a brief moment," he added awkwardly, looking back up and locking his eyes with Dan's, "I thought we were going to die before we woke up in here, I wanted to say I was sorry for everything I said earlier. I don't hate you for not agreeing with me on everything, but I value our friendship very much. I would have been dead before then if it wasn't for you."

Dan looked like he was going to break down at the heartfelt words of forgiveness and opened his mouth to respond when a voice silenced their bickering. "Well, isn't this touching to watch? Two oldest friends reconciling after a long time of trouble. And I would have thought it difficult when you two are all too different, one seeking to preserve life and the other all in the name of morbid curiosity."

Both he and Dan looked up at the man in the hooded black cloak, standing at the same time. Beneath it, he wore normal, up-to-date clothing as any other human being. The hood was over his head, but his face was bearded and mildly lined; other than that, he looked as fine as long days gone. Both prisoners recognized him from the picture of the very story book Dan read long ago from childhood memory and Herbert by Mirela from her own copy. Both said the hated surname in unison as though it was literally the object used for poking fire wood, rhyming only.

"Stoker."

He chuckled. "I don't detect any surprise from either of you gentlemen." He looked Dan up and down. "Though I admit I _am_ surprised to see you, Dr. Cain, in good shape in spite of past events." His smile grew broader when Dan growled and started for him, only to be restrained by two men one time his size. Then Stoker turned his attention to Herbert, who stood his ground, lifted his chin up in defiance. "And a feisty one here. No surprise. What else does anyone expect of a man who uses words bigger than himself?"

"Cut to the chase," Herbert bit out irritably. "What do you want from us when I know it is Mirela you want?"

"Oh, Vlad's - _Dracula's_ \- widow, yes. Indeed I want her, as I have all these years. Awaited the time to strike. Dr. West..." He said his name like a mantra, and the mere sound of it drove his nerves to an angry frenzy. "...I made a hobby of studying your work. And my reasons for having your precious serum with me are completely contrary to Dr. Hill's needs for fame and power."

"And that is?" Herbert spat.

"An army of super soldiers, enhanced by you and Mirela's re-agent." He grinned maliciously at Herbert's ability to remain stoic and rigid, and the murder written all over Daniel's face as well as his shouting of objections.

"You crazy son of a bitch! The use of the formula on living human beings is insane, and you'll not only kill them, but you'll get the entire human race killed!"

"Who said anything about humans?" Stoker replied. "I only meant the race of your ladies'."

Herbert felt his jaw drop; he saw, from the corner of his eye, Dan's mirror his. Bram Stoker intended to use the re-agent to create a stronger creature, neither human nor zombie, neither living nor dead...and he was going to continue his purge of the vampire underworld for his "holy duty". That meant starting with Mirela, Celeste, and the rest of their kind. "And when I said starting with your girls, she will be able to find you sooner now that I sent a messenger on the way."

"What messenger?" Dan spat, trying one more time to get free from his captors. "You don't even know where they are now." Herbert was on the verge of calling him an idiot and say of course Stoker knew Castle Dracula, when the man started speaking again.

"Of course I know. Where we met, and where it all began. In fact, the fool Dragomir who now leads the race of bloodsuckers had the audacity to send two men instead of more, because one we took down just as easy, allowing the other to live and return with a message I gave your lover," he said to Herbert. "She'll be on her way here alone, soon enough."

Mirela, coming to him...alone...Herbert's heart sank. The quest to restore him to his former life and continue what he'd began had all but become a life and death struggle. His confidence had all but vanished, replaced by the fear of them all dying before he had his chance at happiness, and Dan a second chance for his own.

He and Celeste were right; he should have asked Mirela for her hand in marriage. It wasn't like he would sacrifice his life's work in the name of bringing new life into the world. He never took himself one to raise children, and Mirela's frozen body would never be able to conceive new life. However, he should have asked her when he had the chance. It was too late to turn back now.

"But it will be some time before she would come here, I'm certain," Stoker continued. He nodded to the two men holding Dan, then to the other two behind him. "Since that is the case, neither she nor the blonde wench herself will mind that some fun is had with the two of you." The order - yes, it was an order - given next sent Herbert's sanity and dignity on the edge, and now he would sympathize with Dan on it.

"Strip them both."

He watched as Dan, flabbergasted and equally outraged as he, was rid of his jacket by the man behind him, leaving him in his sweater over his collared shirt. Herbert, however, did not have his turn yet, only held in place and forced to watch as his friend was undressed against his will, and in front of a group of men. Herbert wasn't sure if he could stand watching any of this; he couldn't believe _any_ of this was happening. Yes, he had his own set of morals, and beliefs against the violation of any form of privacy was definitely amongst them.

Dan shouted in outrage after his sweater was removed, but his shirt had been ripped open so several buttons popped off and scattered in random directions, revealing his sculpted chest beneath it. He fought against his captors in an attempt to preserve his pride as Herbert had done for himself often. The beastly man was about to retaliate, his fist raised, before he was stopped by the voice of his Master. "Don't touch him, Karl. We need them both unharmed for her." It was then that it dawned on Herbert that it was not one of THEIR girls he was talking about; he and his followers had to have another woman here whom they had their fun with but were now giving new ones to. It made his stomach drop to the floor indefinitely.

"Dr. Cain, please play nice with the boys." His kindly, almost fatherly tone made Herbert want to punch the life out of him. "If it makes you feel more comfortable, then finish the job yourself. But don't make me pull out my gun to force you." Now he sounded threatening. Dan never took threats lightly either, so he finished the task of undressing himself in utter silence. By the time he was down to his boxers, Herbert quickly shut his eyes as he _did_ not want to see something he shouldn't. Some seconds passed before he felt a mild slap on the cheek, not enough to hurt him but enough to make his eyes snap open to see Stoker grinning sickly at him. "Aww, Dr. West, it wouldn't be fun to close your eyes off from the best parts." He grasped his chin enough to force Herbert to look at Dan's naked body, exposed for his unwanted attention and to the sick delight of the other males in the room. His body was for every woman to fall over; he was everything Herbert wasn't, and the latter forced his attention from that to his eyes, seeing the anger and humiliation in them.

"Your turn now, West."

He wrenched himself free from the man behind him. "I'll do it myself, thank you," he snapped, before getting to work with great speed just to get this over and done with. His tie was off first, yanked off without a care, his shirt hastily unbuttoned with care unlike his poor friend, socks and shoes next, and finally, after undoing his belt, his pants and briefs were gone so he was equally nude as Dan. Cold air from the winter outside and made its way into the cave assaulted his flesh, causing goosebumps to rise. Afterwards, he was led over to stand next to him, and didn't look at him as he felt Dan's eyes on him briefly before both glared viciously at the man who reduced them to such a degrading show.

"Both of you, fine gentlemen indeed." Stoker's eyes landed on Herbert mostly. "To think your Mirela took that body from my own right hand man, deprived his lover of the love and passion they shared. Which is exactly what I'm now planning to do with the both of you, just so I can savor breaking the girls' hearts...like I broke the widow's all those years ago."

Herbert's temper thread snapped as he began to move for the bastard who broke his Mirela's heart once before. He felt his strength build in his body, enhanced by the re-agent in his system, but he was stopped by one of the muscled monsters. "My dear, have fun with Dr. Cain...and don't waste any time being gentle or otherwise."

"Mmm, I love a man like him. So young and fresh...something I didn't find on my own for once."

From the side where Dan was came the most beautiful woman in a bejeweled, revealing garment, her flesh pearlescent and hair a fiery shade of red, wild as a forest fire. Her eyes were black, shimmering with a maniacal longing as she made her way for Dan, who held it together despite the shameful groping and touching of his chest and stomach, his back and buttocks, and his groin area - all of which belonged to Celeste and Celeste only - and she deeply chuckled delightfully. "Bram, love, didn't you tell me to not play with my food before?"

He snorted. "Ioana, this one isn't food for you this time. He's yours to toy with, the bait until we trap the fish in the net."

Herbert's memory clicked. _Ioana..._ where did he hear that name?

The vampire who had once been Mirela's husband's lover before he married Mirela. The one who butchered her parents and almost killed Mirela before Vlad saved her and made her like him. The one who did the same to Celeste before Mirela rescued her, too. The one who took her revenge by selling the man everyone called Dracula out to the madman before them all. Now it seemed _she_ and _Stoker_ were together now. Herbert watched as she began to lead Dan away for her disgusting brand of "fun". The bile rose in Herbert's stomach as he could imagine suffering at the hands of the paramour of the man whose body was now his.

He wished Mirela would come and some soon.

"The little vamp-whore did a great job of combining my dear with this selfish child of God. Who shows no respect for his superiors." Herbert's head snapped up and to the side to see the source of voice...and moaned in despair as _another man_ showed up. Clearly this Jon Falcone had no actualy desire for women. It made him sicker than he already was.


	13. Chapter 12

**FINALE. :D Enjoy.**

Chapter Twelve

It didn't normally take long for a vampire to search for what they want, but the scouts hadn't returned yet. Mirela worried this as she changed into more flattering and winter appropriate clothing - a burgundy velvet blouse with a ruched front and tight black trousers and boots. Even more as she detected only one scout returning; the other's life signal nowhere within the radar. Even Grigore sensed it, too, for he sent her the message. _Stoker let him live to give us the message._

 _The message that I should go to the men,_ Mirela answered, the answer obvious enough. Of course, why else? It was all on her; Celeste had nothing much to do with any of this. She'd killed his right hand man for the one she loved, and she had a price to pay for it: her own life. Either that, or he would kill both Dan and Herbert and make both her and Celeste suffer for it. The latter was worse than the first.

And then she felt a spike in Celeste's room, particularly her aura. She was in agony. Dashing out of the room that had once been her own when she was still married to Vlad, Mirela found herself in a golden room of pure luxury nearly the same as her own, except for the fact with the canopy bed hung with curtains of golden brocade. There sat Celeste at the foot of the bed, wearing a white peasant blouse and a rosy pink skirt, tugging at her hair in frustration and panic. Sensing her in the room, she spoke. Her voice was hoarse, cracked with pain and paranoia all in one.

"Our men..."

"What is it?" Mirela demanded, her temper flaring up. Why hadn't she thought about checking in on them? But then again, it had been hard to detect their signals if they were in the mountains.

But then again, if she couldn't sense them, then _how_ could Celeste? Unless she was having a mere vision instead of just reading one or both of their minds...damn it, she couldn't piece it together at the present.

"It's just...oh, God, what he's having his men do to them..." Celeste moaned, standing, still keeping her hands as they were, now pacing back and forth. Mirela couldn't stand anymore of this and stalked over, taking her friend by both forearms and shaking her, mentally screaming at her to tell her now. Celeste stopped then and looked her straight in the eyes. "He's...he's humiliated them both...stripped them both in front of his own eyes and his men, for their own sick pleasure. My _Daniel_ is being fondled and groped by IOANA AND MORE WHORES!" she spat, a howl mixing in with her rage and disgust; she wrenched herself free from Mirela's hold, going on with her wails. "And Herbert..."

"No need to tell me," Mirela snarled, clenching her fists so hard she wished she had blood to draw. Dan and Herbert...HER Herbert and _Celeste's_ Dan...touched and violated for the demented pleasure of Bram Stoker's goons, and the horried Ioana who had been the pest in both their lives', while they waited for her to come...once she got there, she would rip out everyone's hearts and drink down their blood so there was nothing left but skins and bones.

"No, that's not all for him," Celeste gasped, reaching for both her hands to take into hers. "Herbert isn't...suffering at the hands of those Dan is. Jon Falcone had a..." She gulped nervously with what she struggled to say next. "...homosexual lover in life."

Mirela's whole body fell to the floor if not physically so.

" _Dumnezeu_..." She uttered a Romanian nonsensical phrase Celeste couldn't make out, nor could she herself. She fell into her friend's arms at the images conjured up. Herbert was stripped and violated by the vengeful gay love of the man she killed and took his body for Herbert...once more, if she were human again, she would have literally vomitted onto the grand carpeting beneath her.

The door flew open then and there, snapping them both to attention. Grigore stood there, and he wasn't alone either. "Serghei!" Mirela surged forward and took the wounded but slowly healing scout into her arms, lowering both her body and his to the ground. "Dear God, what happened?"

He looked her straight into the eyes, no trace of physical pain, but pain of loss. "We - we were attacked, mistress. Petre was killed, but they let me live. He wanted me to give you a message." She knew who he meant by "he". "He wants you to come alone. You and you alone, if you want the men alive...and the formula."

Damn it, the RE-AGENT. "What does he plan to do with it?" Mirela demanded.

"He said...that is confidential." The fires of impatience were back; she couldn't stretch out to read Stoker's mind either. What had she expected? He was a Master of deception. "He won't let you know until you see for yourself." He coughed. "You better go save their lives, madam. Everything depends on it, as does the fate of the entire world."

~o~

Dan Cain had never been violated in his life; no, he'd gone through his life without so much as someone touching his private parts when he didn't like it. He was currently held down by one woman at his head, his wrists on either side of his head, and another holding his ankles and keeping his legs spread apart for more access to parts that Meg once explored, now belonging to Celeste; he struggled against these concubines of the enemy as they kissed, licked, and touched him against his will. Ioana and two other female bloodsuckers - one black-haired and the other blonde, like Celeste.

Dan felt ashamed of himself when he found that his member had hardened in the hold of Ioana over him, another on his other side leaning down to take his nipple into her teeth and nibbling enough to make him gasp. "I just _love_ a big, strong man," one of the other girls purred, reaching to stroke the side of his face and trace the cleft of his chin. Dan gritted his teeth together even though he struggled to think of a verbal comeback. His body was not meant for various women's cattle play; he'd long had a strong belief that sexual activity was only between two people who actually had feelings for each other.

He wondered about Herbert, even though he already knew the answer. He just hoped Mirela, Celeste and their significant others would come in time. Their bodies' well-being - and the fate of the entire world; he laughed sarcastically at the old "wipe out the world" ploy known only in literature and media - all depended upon it.

~o~

This was not happening this was not happening this was not happening...! That voice in his head was screaming as he found himself thrown face down onto the ground, hands roughly grabbing his wrists and tying them with rope behind his back, not enough to leave marks into his skin but tight enough to ensure he wouldn't escape his bonds. Herbert's lungs felt heavy and burning with the breath he held in. Being a severed head in a dish certainly was the worst Hell he'd lived, so this wasn't compared to that even after psychiatric "observation" after Gruber died, including torture by the orderlies when his doctors weren't looking, and even the act was covered up by security for their own amusement.

But it DID matter since his body now belonged to Mirela and Mirela only.

He gasped sharply when he felt something long and thick pressed against his bared flesh, covered by rough fabrics that didn't give any relief, either. Then Herbert found himself turned over so his hands were trapped between his back and the cold, concrete ground, staring up at the man who had been the...dear God, lover of the man who had been the candidate for his body. Herbert tried to quell the quivering of his body as he stared up at the man through his glasses. The way he looked over him hungrily, licking his lips, was horried enough. He still tried to assure himself that being without a body was worst than this, but the terror in his veins was ever present. He was still about to be violated before his lover would come to his rescue.

"You're just like I remember Jon," he drawled, running his hand up and down Herbert's chest, palming his nipples in the process. Herbert whimpered, making him grin broader. "He was an amazing lover as I was to him, so I'm going to be the same to you." Herbert writhed and snarled when the big, meaty hand traveled down south over his flat stomach, stopping just below the abdomen, where he fingered and tugged the bush line of Herbert's pubic hair, making him jolt. "Imagine all the things I will do to make you scream my name and come..."

"Think again, bastard."

The man barely had time to scream when he was pulled back from Herbert; a heavy spray of crimson splashed its way onto Herbert's chest before he knew it, getting him cooled to the point of sheer panic. Where had that come from? He was used to blood on him during failed re-animation experiments, so maybe it took him by surprise. The source of it, and the meaty wound on the left side of the monster's thick neck and heavy bloodflow, revealed itself: the lustrous, ebony head of Mirela popped around and grinned at him, her beautiful mouth a rich red from the blood she tasted in the process of killing her prey. Then her mouth curled into a feral expression as she looked down into the panicked, dying face. "This man is mine to touch and worship. Mine and no other's." He choked his last when she broke his neck in one movement and tossed his lifeless carcass to the side.

"I knew you would come." Herbert smiled up at her, rolling over onto his side for her to tear the bindings off his wrists.

"I always keep my promises," she answered, helping him stand and dress into the spare clothing she brought him - the same as always - before taking his face into both her hands, capturing his lips with hers, the salty taste of blood mingling in with the passionate act that thrummed through his half-living, half-dead veins. Herbert hummed in delight and placed his hands on her hips; the velvet of her blouse was a delectable but invading obstacle from her skin.

"Well, isn't this touching?" Damn that voice, that man whom it belonged to, who had torn him apart from her and Dan from Celeste. And murdered Mirela's first love so ruthlessly. Herbert hissed with his beloved as they both turned at the sight of Stoker himself. He had the infamous sick grin plastered over his unkempt face. "But I'm afraid I will have to cut it short." He withdrew something from his coat pocket, and Herbert recognized it as a machine gun. One that shot darts, and he wouldn't be surprised if it was filled with his re-agent. Or a poisoned one.

Or maybe with one of the ways that actually killed a vampire: silver in fluid form.

~o~

Oh, she'd heard everything from his minions as soon as she'd arrived here with back-up in spite of the warning, because vampires were more smarter than humans, able to catch up without them knowing and despite their most-of-the-time careful planning. Stoker planned to use the re-agent to create an army of re-animated to unleash upon the entire world and destroy the underworld. Standing protectively in front of Herbert, Mirela bared her teeth in a feral snarl.

"You took one I loved from me once, and you're not taking this one from me now," she said. "And you won't win this fight, either. Where do you keep your secret construction of re-animated corpses?" It would be laughable yet ironic enough if he kept what anybody recalled from the movies when it came to the bad guy preparing for world domination.

Stoker laughed and shook his head. "It should be obvious enough, _Dr. Vale._ " His drawl of her name shook her fired nerves. "Deep within this mountain of this region where it all began between the two of us. Just preserved and waiting for the right time to strike. Batches of re-agent soon to be used far more advanced than been using."

Mirela stared at him in shock, her thoughts exactly matching Herbert's words. His hand came to rest on her arm as he demanded, "You mean, you've _been_ experimenting with the re-animation of dead tissue?"

"Only after the Miskatonic Massacre. But before then, it actually began when I took some venom samples from the body of dear Mirela's poor husband after I drove a silver stake though his heart." His matter-of-fact statement sent her off the edge, speaking of how he desecrated her late husband's remains for his own amusement in the name of "science". If this was how Dan referred to Herbert in the past, then Stoker was worse than that. Mirela had to urge to kill him here, right now. "And taking a taste of it myself without so much as a needle injection of it. Here I am now, after less than two hundred years. Fresh as ever." He flourished himself in the name of showing off.

"It was glorious to say the least, and nobody noticed much less say anything about it," he went on proudly. "Of course in case anyone ever noticed, I had to assume another identity and put someone else in place of my 'death'." He winked knowingly.

"Your own brother," Mirela spat.

"He brought it on himself," he stated casually. "But enough chit-chat." He clicked the weapon. "I've hunted you for years long enough, so it ends here. I won't let you, your lover here, or your meddlesome friends interfere with my plans. Prepare to meet your husband in Hell."

It all happened n a blur, so fast Mirela was unable to comprehend as though she were human again. Shoving Herbert aside and closing her eyes, body frozen, she was more than ready to take the blow then, just to save the lives of him and the others. There was no time for second thoughts in leaving him alone; he would live as she had when she lost Vlad. The silver in the dart would enter her system and burn her as the sun was said to do in the myths known to man.

However, the pain never came, and there was the sound of a body falling in front of her, followed by groans of pain. Looking down, she saw _who_ the willing sacrifice had been, just to save her life.

"Dan..."

"I did it, for you," he managed, trying to rise only to fall back to the ground.

The idiot. As much as she wanted to thank him, what about Celeste, who was standing right behind the monster himself, watching in horror as her beloved took the fatal shot to save Mirela? There was no time to read his mind, however, as Stoker had the silver-inducing machinery in hand.

"God, no, that wasn't supposed to be you!" he exclaimed, throwing it down. "A single shot in here...it was supposed to be YOU!" He motioned to Mirela, who smiled wickedly, prepared to avenge the man she'd wanted to kill for the hell he put her Herbert through, now considered him a brave man willing to risk his life for her.

Now she was going for the kill.

However, she did not expect him to retaliate with the physical force that he delivered when he threw his hand out and backhanded her; the sheer impact stunned her to her very rocky core as she was sent backwards, pummeling into the air until she hit the cave wall of the opposite end. She heard Celeste cry out her name; she sent the message back through the air to tell her to get backup help while she handled Stoker, who was now over her, and had his iron grip around her neck. He couldn't suffocate her as her lungs weren't oxygenated, but it threatened to crack the porcelain structure of her flesh and bone. Mirela was still able to breathe evenly.

"You're strong for a woman," Stoker breathed into her ear. "A lot stronger than your husband ever was." His voice hissed angrily, and he brought her head back only to smash it against the rugged wall, stunning her again. "But not stronger than I."

Her vision remained crystal clear as ever when Mirela looked past him to see Herbert over Dan, holding him close as he watched the fight. _Get him out, darling,_ she told him in his mind. He nodded and began to pull him away for the corner around the end, just to keep him and Dan out of the way of the fight that was sure to come. She knew she had to do this for the two of them, for Celeste, for Grigore, and for everyone else depending on her.

"I'm strong enough to _kill you_ ," she growled, and just like that, she brought her legs up and kicked him square in the midsection, sending him flying back so that he, too, hit the wall. The vampire venom in his system had enhanced his physical strength, now she knew, because of the effects she was sure had left on Herbert even though he didn't realize it. But she couldn't let him get harmed by this man whose fight rested between her and him only.

Mirela crouched like a tiger on the ground, coat now thrown off and teeth bared as she watched Bram Stoker get up off the ground and resume his stance. She snarled viciously like a wild she-cat ready to devour human prey; he returned with a "knowing", cocky smirk. The animals were ready to devour each other until neither of them were alive left, just the bones left over in the classic "hero and enemy" die format.

And jump into the air at the same time was exactly what they did, Mirela wild cat style while Stoker was in the pose of a ninja. The fool forgot one important thing: having his foot extended out was marking him for what she planned to do and already did.

Mirela grabbed him by the foot, spun him around and threw him into another wall, in a random direction but enough to catch him off and daze him for her next course.

She lunged for Stoker, pinning him to the ground and wasting no time in taking a bite out of his neck as she did the molester before. She never killed anyone unless it was out of self-defense or whether they deserved it. Tasting the salty blood of her foe in the process, she growled in satisfacation at the sweet revenge she long wanted.

"Mirela, stop!" She looked up at the sound of Grigore's voice. Jerking her head up but keeping her target on Stoker at the same time, she saw him there with sadness etched into his face. "My dear, let us handle this. You may have gotten your taste of revenge, but lives need you, the doctor." He nodded to his side, where Celeste and Herbert were over Dan, wounded and perhaps dying. He was right; she was a doctor, and it was her job to save a life. The taste of the blood of Stoker was enough. She left him there for Grigore and his men to take care of.

As soon as she was with her lover and dear Celeste, who held her lover in her arms, she saw that he was looking up at Herbert with desperation on his face. Herbert, in turn, was on the verge of cracking as she'd never seen him before. They were two best friends who endured worse together, and for Herbert to lose him would break his heart as worse as Mirela dying ever would have done.

"Revenge was sweet after all," Celeste whispered to her, leaning down and kissing Dan's forehead for reassurance. "Ioana is no longer a problem either." She looked up at Mirela, bronze orbs glowing with fire; she'd taken care of the red-haired devil herself. She'd violated Dan and got what she deserved after years of Celeste desiring to kill her herself. _You got your wish,_ Mirela sent through their bond which was as strong as Herbert's and Dan...now that the latter's life was in grave danger.

~o~

They took Dan back to the castle with haste, also taking Stoker back, too, but in chains. His men were killed, the laboratory in the mountains destroyed and the re-agent recovered and placed back into good hands, however with the words of wisdom from Grigore Dragomir, the man Mirela Vale - still Mirela Dracul to him, the use of her husband's family name - still loved like a father to her.

"It's best if the world is not ready for a miracle like this. It could wind up falling into the wrong hands as your lover did at the hands of his mortal adversary Dr. Hill, and the man in the dungeons himself. The conquering of death will have to be kept safe by you and Dr. West for now on, until safety is guaranteed."

Herbert had been extremely disappointed to hear the words; nevertheless, he complied and it was agreed he and Mirela would use it to save the lives without wholly revealing their discovery to the world. And right now was the time, given Daniel's state deteriorating as he lay in the bed given to Celeste. His skin was now displaying purple splotches rising to the surface. The dart _had_ been filled with silver nitrate, but while it would literally burn a vampire to death, on a human being it would cause allergic effects due to little exposure; however, with larger amounts, the risks were far more severe.

"One of us is going to have to suck out the silver," Mirela announced, exposing Dan's abdomen to show the mad purplish-red mark where the dart was left. "Since he hasn't much time left, and it's far too overwhelming for standard procedure that we are currently lacking at the present." She regretfully looked up and around to the faces of everyone and waited for volunteers, even though she knew the answers in her heart: Grigore she loved too much to lose him, and Herbert had been through enough to risk losing his life once again. And Celeste was willing enough to save the life of the man she loved, though Dan needed her more than enough to lose her as he'd lost Megan Halsey.

Mirela was just about willing to do it for them all when an unexpected volunteer piped up and stepped through the parting crowd. "I will do it."

"Daciana..." Grigore gasped, thoroughly shocked as Mirela and everyone else was. "You...you don't have to..." He tried talking her out of it, though she read him as clear as ever that he should be glad he was getting rid of the mate who had long been mean to him as a rabid dog; it was no secret that he secretly had a tryst with one of the lesser female members of the Council and considered mating with.

She silenced him with one finger lifted up. "I realize now that we've been shackled in a troubled lifetime long enough, and I'm more than willing to end it this way, Grigore." Daciana turned her attention back to Dan, whose life signs were fading fast, and Celeste held his hand in both of hers in a painful, desperate grasp. "And a life needs saving. This is my final mission and the least I can do for those I have wronged with my bitterness."

She leaned forward and placed her mouth onto the wound on Daniel's stomach, and everyone heard a ghastly sound as she suctioned the deadly liquids out of his blood system. Mirela stood in front of Herbert as she watched on in amazement; his hand came to grasp hers and tighten even though it wouldn't harm her. Dan's face relaxed peacefully as the wife of Grigore Dragomir risked her life for him by taking the toxins out of his body. Raven knew she would have to administer the re-agent into his heart afterwards, given he would, like Herbert, live forevermore without a monthly dosage anymore. But no, she would not do it herself. Herbert's head and life had been saved by him, so now Herbert could do him a favor in return; she slipped the already-filled syringe into his hand from behind. She felt him take it without hesitation.

Daciana finished her job and slowly stood up. And then it happened with all the speed of a great wind picking up dirt and dust from the ground: her whole body was consumed by flames as she stood poised and stone-still, until all of her was gone and left nothing more than a handful of ashes beside the bed, where she had been standing. Grigore and his followers all bowed their heads for her loss though rejoiced her bravery for the life of another. Mirela turned to Herbert behind her and smiled.

Celeste watched as Herbert approached the bed, staying by Dan's side and keeping his hand in hers even as Herbert injected the serum of life into his heart, pulling it out gently afterwards. Seconds passed by before Daniel Cain opened his eyes again and took a few gentle breaths of air into his lungs again, only to be partially suffocated by a kiss from his lover.

Empty syringe still in hand, Herbert looked into Mirela's eyes and smiled, moving towards her until their bodies touched. "All these years I spent trying to defeat death, and I have," he whispered. "With the man whose life I saved, and all for a woman who is so much like I am."

Mirela smiled up at him. "The path to greatness always includes pain and tragedy. It's the only way we grow stronger every day."

He returned the smile. "Truer words have never been spoken," he agreed, leaning down and capturing her lips blissfully in front of the other immortals in the room. "I've waited my whole long life for you, and I'll never let you go again. I shall never get tired of telling you so."

~o~

Looking down at your enemy in chains was always exhilarating. Mirela deliberated this as she stood in the dungeon with her lover by her side, their audience behind them standing in the doorway, as they towered over the broken form of Bram Stoker, immortal author of the disgraceful tale of _Dracula_ and secret vampire hunter, murderer of Vlad and attempt of world domination. She held the beautiful sword of Dracula in both her hands - it had been his father Vlad II's weapon in battle - as she towered over his feeble old face attempting to leer at her and failing.

"We've won the battle," she stated calmly, and it was even more terrifying than shouted words. "I would have called this particular parting agonizing, but it serves to be savoring after the agony you caused so many others."

"Go ahead and kill me, Mirela," he challenged. "I still have more like me out there. You haven't won the war just yet."

Herbert stepped up for her; he had the lighter in hand. "We're counting on it. Your death won't be reversed by my hands, given I have learned my lessons about bringing back those who try to kill me and those I know now I truly care for."

Mirela raised the sword then, the blade gleaming silver despite the darkness. "Say hello to your family...in Hell."

Crimson splashed into the air, followed by a burst of flame from the spraying fluids that trailed from the body into random directions on the floor as the body was turned into ashes.

~o~

The wedding bells in Castle Dracula on the first day of that following spring - no, this wasn't a holy church wedding, nor did it need to be. This was meant to be the happiest day of their lives: of two half-living, half-dead human men marrying two wholly undead women they loved with every fiber of their beings. The sun was shining in a cloudless sky, the spring mountain flowers in bloom for a living outer shell. The grand staircase and many pillars were lavishly garlanded with roses of the most passionate shade of red, and rose petals lined the sides of the aisle which the brides would walk down, leading to a curtained altar where the two grooms waited. Two tall candelabra with candles, roses and hydrangeas gave the matrimonial site the opulence it needed.

Daniel nervously fidgeted from foot to foot whilst Herbert remained calm and collected, although inside he was jumping with elation as he waited with his friend to see his bride and the other's enter the ballroom to join them for eternity.

Meanwhile, upstairs in the tower, the women themselves were recieving the finishing touches with the absence of makeup human females required for their own special days. Both girls wore chiffon dresses with low V-necks to show their curves, sheer sleeves that ended at the elbows and continued past in flows, though Celeste was in ivory that actually looked like buttery yellow instead. Her forehead and liquid gold locks were accented by a beautiful headpiece crafted in silver and set with yellow porcelain flowers centered with crystals. Mirela, however, was in a white so bright it was almost silver, her rich ebony curls adorned with a meticulous coronet instead for a more regal appeal; the six points were formed by ivy leaves adorned with dark stones.

Mirela remembered how, when she was still human, then eighteen years old and happily getting married to a man her parents picked for her when it was truly her choice all along, she'd dressed in a plain white dress hardly befitting of a bride now that she thought of it. The second time, which was a vampire sacrament, had been far grander, still white but richer, full of dark passion. Now she was in white once more, frozen forever at twenty-two years old summed up to a hundred and sixty years, and this love was far stronger than death itself.

And Celeste, she was happier than she had been in her human time, this time in an everlasting matrimony. She was examining herself one more time in the mirror, looking Mirela over whilst still gazing at her reflection. "Beautiful, Mirela. Far more than you were then, I imagine."

"Aw, bless you, Cel." Mirela patted her shoulder without messing her hair up. "You're exactly the bride you've always wanted to be." She then picked up her bouquet of red roses and calla lilies so dark they were almost black, accented with white flowers, and handed Celeste her own, this one of black and white calla lilies since she was the more innocent and fairer of the two. "So it begins. Our men await."

Their trains flared out like the callas in their bouquets as they proceeded down the rose-garlanded hallways and descended the stairs, not once stopping until they got to the ballroom and graced the petal-lined aisle until Celeste was before Dan, and Mirela before Herbert, so that Grigore himself would do his job as he felt a resonsibility for these ones he called his children.

This was the moment Daniel Cain had dreamed of all his life, to be marrying the woman he loved and spending the rest of his life with her. Now his life was complete as he and Celeste exchanged their vows and the rings, sealing it with a kiss in front of the whole High Vampire Council and the others from across the globe. Okay, never in front of these creatures he'd grown up reading and fearing as a child, but now it wasn't as dreadful as he once thought. There was only Celeste and the possible future with her.

As for Herbert West, it had taken more time with Mirela to finally summon his willpower and ask her for her hand, his anxieties forgotten once and for all. Why had he been so afraid of marriage? His one true love had been right in front of him, and he'd been a coward for this. But no more, not as he slipped her ring around the finger than once bore the one from her husband before him.

Mirela smiled down at the new ring on her finger, though from Herbert. So it was actually possible that the mind of a scientist could create more beauty and romance than Mother Nature? This ring had to say the answer, with the three fiery diamonds flawless and radiant, light dispersing into an exquisite prism of colors. They retained every jeweler's specification: color, clarity, cut, carat...now adding chemistry to be the fifth "C". After years of bitter parting, now they were together forever. The kiss Mirela _West_ shared with her new husband was more exhilarating than any other they shared together, the long journey they went on together through better and worse finally at an end. No more suffering for anyone as long as they lived.

 _I'm so tired of being here_

 _Suppressed by all my childish fears_

 _And if you have to leave_

 _I wish that you would just leave_

 _'Cause your presence still lingers here_

 _And it won't leave me alone_

 _These wounds won't seem to heal_

 _This pain is just too real_

 _There's just too much that time cannot erase_

 _When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears_

 _When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears_

 _And I held your hand through all of these years_

 _But you still have all of me_

 _You used to captivate me by your resonating light_

 _Now I'm bound by the life you left behind_

 _Your face it haunts my once pleasant dreams_

 _Your voice it chased away all the sanity in_

 _These wounds won't seem to heal_

 _This pain is just too real_

 _There's just too much that time cannot erase_

 _When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears_

 _When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears_

 _And I held your hand through all of these years_

 _But you still have all of me_

\- "My Immortal" by Evanescence

 **I truly am proud of this Gothic love story, as I have been with the others before it.**

 **The fight between Mirela and Stoker was based off Edward vs. James in "Twilight". :)**

 **"There's a Head in the Box" is an absolute must-read for those who haven't read it, and you'll see why I chose to have Herbert be given a second chance so he could live and love. :D And for Dan to have the happiness he was deprived of himself after losing Meg most notably. Thank you for reading, and reviews are appreciated.**


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